Flower of the Court
by londonmalfoy
Summary: Over the summer, Hermione finds out that she is adopted. Along with this new change, Hermione discovers a secret power of time travel shared by none other than Draco Malfoy. But what will happen when something goes wrong?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

"Hermione, darling," Hermione's mum said, "We need to talk."

Hermione Granger stopped herself from heading out the door to the library. It was the summer before her sixth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and there were only two weeks until school started up again. Hermione's hair was as bushy as ever, but she had grown up, filling out in all the right places. Her honey brown eyes glimmered with worry as she sat down silently on the floral print love seat across from her mum.

'Uh Oh,' Hermione thought to herself. Everybody knows that 'we need to talk' are the four most dreaded words in the English language. Whatever her parents had to say could not be good. Her father entered the room with a box of Kleenex, a sure sign that what they had to talk about would be disturbing enough to possibly make her cry.

"Hermione, throughout all of these years, you have excelled at witchcraft, and you know that we love you and are proud of you," her mum, Gladys, said, tears already forming around her aqua blue eyes.

"But the fact remains that there is something of great importance that we must discuss with you. You are one of the brightest witches of your age, or at least according to that magic newspaper that you showed us. Yet your father and I are what do you call them... oh yes, muggles!" Gladys said, her voice steadily becoming more and more shaky.

"Yes, mum, I've known that since I was eleven. What does that matter?" Hermione questioned in confusion.

"You see, Hermione honey, sixteen years ago was a rather dangerous period in England," Hermione's father, Tom, began to explain, "Us regular people, muggles, were dying mysteriously. Since your mother and I could not have any children back then, we decided to adopt. When we went to the orphanage, the lady informed us of the war in the wizarding world."

"Of course, at first we laughed at her," Tom continued, "Magic! Who ever heard of such a nonsensical idea? Then, she showed us the war torn streets of Diagon Alley. We were shocked that such a thing could be going on without anyone else knowing about it. The lady convinced us to adopt a baby who would grow up to belong to this strange world of magic. We agreed and brought that baby home. We cared and loved it as if it were our own child. That baby, Hermione, was you."

Hermione simply sat there, speechless from the shocking story that apparently was her life. She couldn't believe it, that she Hermione Granger, wasn't even Hermione Granger at all. What was her last name? What were her real parents like? Were they dead or alive? Thoughts swam in Hermione's mind and she began to fell rather faint.

"Last June, while you were still in school, we received a letter from your real parents. They wish to have you returned to them, and your mother and I have no choice but to obey. Tomorrow you must go to their house, and you shall spend the rest of your summer there. In fact you are to live there from now on," Tom said, his usually merry voice beginning to crack with grief.

"But... why now? And why did they give me up for adoption?" Hermione questioned in a soft, disbelieving voice.

"We were told that they were afraid for your safety during the first wizarding war. Apparently they thought that it was dangerous for a baby. As for why now, I'm afraid that I don't know," her father replied, tears now streaming down his face as he reached for a Kleenex.

At this point, Hermione was the only one who was not in tears. She was still too shocked to cry. How could this happen to her? Harry was the orphan, not her. True her real parents were alive, but Hermione could never come to love them as she did the Granger's.

Gladys reached out and hugged Hermione, practically suffocating her. Tom quickly came over and joined them in a huge group suffocate-Hermione hug. Soon, Hermione was soaking wet from the tears shed by her parents, or rather, her adoptive parents.

"Hermione darling, I love you so much. Please don't ever forget us. I don't want to let my baby go," Gladys sobbed into Hermione's neck, still refusing to let go of her precious Hermione.

"Don't worry, I'll never forget you both. I'll never stop loving you," Hermione whispered fiercely, the tears that had previously refused to fall, now cascading down her face.

Hermione sat on her bed, packing her suitcase and preparing to leave. Her mascara and eyeliner were now smeared down her face, evidence of her tears. She couldn't decide on what to pack. Should she take all of her clothes? Or just a few in hopes of getting new ones?

What did it even matter, though? Hermione was still too upset to worry about clothes. She was leaving her family, the people who sheltered her and clothed her. Nothing could get worse than that!

On the bright side, however, she was starting a new journey that would surely be filled with adventure. She would be just like one of the characters in her beloved books. That's what she should take! How could Hermione, book worm Gryffindor forget her books?

If she became lonely or frightened at her new home, she would always have Lizzy Bennet or Catherine Earnshaw to keep her company. Her favorite books were 'Pride and Prejudice' and 'Wuthering Heights'. Hermione always admired Elizabeth's quick wit and intelligence, and Catherine's spunk and adventure. And the romance in both of these books was enough to sweep her away into a whole new world were all of her troubles were forgotten.

Hermione picked up her worn copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' and began to let her fears and worries dissolve into the story of Elizabeth Bennet and her Mr. Darcy. Before she knew it, Hermione was fast asleep, her book still in her hands, dreaming of distant lands were every body lived happily ever after.

Authors note: Thank you for reading this. IF YOU HAVE ANY SORT OF OPINION ON THIS STORY, I WOULD REALLY APPRICIATE IT IF YOU WOULD REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2: Last Goodbyes

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

The next morning, Hermione Granger's jukebox alarm clock woke her from her peaceful dreams. She yawned as sunshine shown through the white lace curtains that covered her window. Another new day, and she wondered what sort of things would happen.

Then a wave of horror flashed through her body as she remembered yesterday's conversation that would forever change her life. Today was the day that she would move to her new home with her new family. Hermione wondered what they would be like, and what sort of house she would live in. She hoped that she would be able to get along with them, for it would be horrible if she hated her new parents.

Suddenly, a new question popped into her head. This question filled her with dread at the unknown answer. Would she ever be allowed to see the Granger's again? They were the people that raised her, and she loved them very much. If she couldn't ever see or speak to them again, Hermione would be lost.

'Well, I guess that there is only one way to find out. I must get dressed and go meet these people that are to be my family,' Hermione thought glumly. If there was one thing that she didn't want to do, it was to leave home. 'But this is not home any more, Hermione,' she told herself, 'pretty soon you'll find out what your new home will be like.'

So, with a heavy heart, Hermione got up and walked to her tiny wardrobe. Her clothing options were rather limited, because her family hadn't had enough money to spend on clothes shopping since Gladys lost her job at the hospital. And it didn't exactly help that Tom's job as a librarian wasn't exactly paying that well these days. Every night Gladys tried all sorts of new recipes to make their food stretch. Now, Hermione supposed that it would be a little easier with one less mouth to feed.

Slowly and carefully, Hermione chose her favorite outfit. Her blue jeans were soft and frayed from being frequently worn. Her shirt was black with blue stars sprinkled on the front. Hermione felt comfortable in these clothes, even if she did not necessarily look "presentable" for meeting new people.

After a silent breakfast, in which everyone was too nervous and upset to speak, Hermione and the Granger's got into their old beat up station wagon. The same uncomfortable silence that filled the breakfast table soon filled the car.

"I promise that I will write letters to you both," Hermione said, in an attempt to break the awkwardness.

"Oh, Hermione," Gladys cried, tears already reforming in her eyes, "We will miss you so much. I don't know how I will live without you."

"I know, I know," Hermione murmured, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as well.

"Every day we will ask the postman if he has any letters from you. We will write too," Tom said, his voice beginning to crack.

"Let's not talk about it any more," Hermione pleaded, "I don't want to leave and remember us all I tears. I want to remember the happy times, not like this."

Everyone knew that they wouldn't be able to say anything without crying, so they turned on the radio and put in a CD. Elvis Presley's voice filled the station wagon, the only thing that could sooth Hermione. Elvis was her favorite singer, and he had the same magical effect of helping to brighten her mood as her books did.

_Love me tender_

_Love me sweet_

_Never let me go_

_You have made my life complete_

_And I love you so_

_Love me tender_

_Love me true_

_All my dreams fulfill_

_For my darling_

_I love you_

_And I always will_

Three hours later, the rusty old station wagon pulled into a long drive way that was lined with roses and tulips. A heavy old iron gate was open, as if they were expecting them. The house that they pulled up to was absolutely humongous. Huge columns of white marble seemed to stretch up forever, and diamond pane stained glass windows sparkled amongst the grey stone of the house. As pretty as it was, there was something dark and forbidding about the house.

"Well, Hermione, this is it," Tom said shakily.

"What? Aren't you coming in with me?" Hermione demanded, shocked that her parents would leave her all alone to meet some strangers that judging from their house, seemed like they would be rather snobby.

"I don't think that they would... like that very much," Gladys said slowly.

"So, this is really good bye?" Hermione asked, reality finally setting in.

"Good bye, Hermione darling. I love you so much. Please don't forget about us," Gladys sobbed as she reached out and hugged her baby, whom she had raised from infancy, for the last time.

"Good bye, mum. Of course I'll never forget you. Just like I won't stop loving you. Good bye dad, don't forget to write," Hermione said, managing to hold back the tears that were threatening to overflow.

"Hermione..." Tom said through the tears that were now streaming down his face, "Hermione, I'll miss you! Never forget that I love you. Your mother and I both do. Good bye, my darling Hermione, good bye."

The station wagon pulled away, leaving Hermione standing alone, clutching her small suitcase on the steps of the huge house that was now the place that she would call home. This was it, the moment that she would meet her parents; the moment that she would cease to be Hermione Granger, the mudblood with the poor parents.

Gathering up all of her courage, Hermione walked over to the heavy oak door that looked as if it had been keeping enemies out for centuries. She heard footsteps approaching, and knew that in a moment, her life would change forever, when she would meet her new parents.

**Authors note: Sorry that this chapter is sort of short. Future ones will be longer, I was just really tired tonight. My neighbors have been setting off fireworks all day, so my nerves are wearing thin. It would make me REALLY HAPPY IF YOU WOULD ALL REVIEW!**

**The song above is 'Love Me Tender' by Elvis Aaron Presley, King of Rock n Roll, who is in my opinion (and in Hermione's!), the greatest singer of all time!**

**Thank you so much to: Autumn, marauderbabe259, and doublelily who reviewed. I really appreciate it!**


	3. Chapter 3: Meet the Parents

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Hermione could hear footsteps approaching the door, and she knew that there was no turning back. Who would she see when that door would open? What would her new parents be like? Would they like her, or would they shrink back in disappointment?

The massive oak door opened, and Hermione turned to face her parents. She was expecting someone with a cold and arrogant manner, but that was the last word to describe the woman who was standing in the door frame.

The woman in the doorway had brown hair that hung in gentle ringlets and was highlighted with streaks of blonde. Her face was round, and she wore little make-up, emphasizing her natural beauty. Her honey brown eyes, which were just like Hermione's, sparkled with excitement.

"Are you Hermione Granger?" She asked, her voice revealing that she could barely contain her excitement.

"Yes," Hermione said cautiously. Was this woman her mother?

The woman squealed in excitement and quickly enveloped Hermione in a warm hug. When she finally let go, Hermione saw that the honey eyes that were so much like her own were filled with tears of happiness.

"I am sorry," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes, and trying to regain her calm composure, "It is just that it is so wonderful to finally see you after all of these long years! I have been dreaming of this moment for so long and now it is finally real!"

"You must be wondering who I am," the woman continued, "Hermione, I am your mother. My name is Priscilla Zabini, which means that your name is Hermione Zabini."

At this point, Hermione was still standing on the doorstep, clutching her suitcase. Her mother, Priscilla, was still too caught up in the excitement of finally meeting her beloved child that she had momentarily lost her manners, and forgot to invite Hermione inside. But Hermione felt a strange sense of discomfort when she heard the name 'Zabini'. The name sounded so familiar, but Hermione couldn't quite place where she heard the name before.

"Oh, how silly of me," Priscilla gasped, "Come in, Hermione, come in! Welcome to Zabini Manor. Don't be shy, come inside!"

Hermione reluctantly stepped inside to the gorgeous hall, and her breath caught in her throat as she stared in amazement at the room. The floor was tiled in ebony and ivory, and the walls were a crisp, yet elegant white, with pictures of various witches and wizards that Hermione assumed were her ancestors on the walls. At the far end of the hall was a black iron wrought spiral staircase. A quite expensive looking Persian rug was a the base of the staircase, and candelabras on the wall provided a dim light.

"You can just leave your suitcase there, it will be taken care of," Priscilla said, with a careless wave of her hand, "Come in here to the parlor where you can meet your father, and your brother, Blaise."

Suddenly Hermione realized exactly where she heard the name 'Zabini'. Memories of Hogwarts came flooding back to her, and she recalled the boy with jet black hair who always accompanied Draco Malfoy. Blaise Zabini, her brother, was Malfoy's best friend! Hermione stood there, too horrorstruck to move.

"You do want to meet them, don't you?" Priscilla asked in concern, noticing that Hermione had not moved, and had a look of terror on her face.

"Oh, yes, of course I would," Hermione said quickly, thoughts swimming through her head as she followed Priscilla into a room decorated in gold and black. If she was a Zabini, did that mean that she would be expected to befriend Malfoy? Because if she was, fat chance that t would actually happen.

When she entered the room, Hermione noticed a man sitting on one couch, and none other than Blaise Zabini sitting in an over stuffed chair. Blaise had jet black hair and vivid blue eyes that flashed with surprise when he saw Hermione. He immediately recognized Hermione as the Gryffindor Golden Girl, who was best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasly.

"Blaise, this is your sister, Hermione. Paulo, come here," Priscilla announced.

Hermione's father, Paulo, immediately got up and hugged Hermione. His black hair was speckled with grey, and he smelled of cigar smoke. Blaise, on the other hand, only got up when he felt his mothers disapproving stare. He seemed to still be in shock from finding out that Hermione "mudblood" Granger was actually his long lost sister.

"Uh, Hermione... it's nice to meet you," Blaise said.

"Same here," Hermione replied briskly, hoping that he wouldn't start in on her later after Priscilla and Paulo left, "Although I must admit that I am rather surprised to find out that you are my brother."

"Oh, you two know each other already?" Paulo questioned, his own blue eyes shimmering with amusement.

"Something like that," Blaise muttered, "Listen, Hermione, do you want me to show you around the manor? Or how about the gardens?"

"I would very much like to see the gardens," Hermione replied, sensing that Blaise wanted to talk, not necessarily show her how many fountains and flowers here were in the garden.

"I'm so glad that you two are getting along so well already," Priscilla said fondly.

"Yes, well, why would we not get along?" Hermione said, while Blaise silently snickered, "We'll be back in a little while."

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When the two siblings stepped outside, and began walking down a winding path that was a maze of flowers and huge hedges, Hermione was once again speechless in wonder. Tall hedges formed walls that were the backdrop of a gorgeous display of flowers. There was every sort of flower imaginable, such as roses, daffodils, daisies, chrysanthemums, and a wide array of magical that Hermione couldn't even name.

"Bloody hell, Granger, how can _you_ be my sister?" Blaise exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot from the house.

"Well, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it," Hermione said, rather taken aback by his accusing tone, "If you don't like the fact that I'm your sister, then I guess that you're shit out of luck, 'cos it isn't like I asked to be your sister."

"What?" Blaise asked, also seeming surprised by Hermione's reply, "I didn't mean it like that. It is just that all my life, I knew that I had a sister out there somewhere, but I didn't know who. When I found out that it was you, it just caught me off guard."

Hermione blushed slightly, suddenly ashamed of how she just snapped at him like that, without giving him a chance to explain. So he felt just as flabbergasted as she did. Maybe she could over the fact that he was a Slytherin, and begin to think of him as her brother.

"Listen, I was wondering if we could forget our past, and have a fresh start. Anyway, it's not as if we ever really bothered each other," Blaise said somewhat hopefully.

"Yeah, I guess that you're right. It was just really that you are in Slytherin, and I am in Gryffindor, but I suppose that none of that really matters now," Hermione admitted.

"Okay, that is good that's out of the way. So, how do you like the manor? " Blaise questioned.

"Well, it is certainly is big enough," Hermione mused, "But honestly, I think that it is absolutely stunning. It is just like a fairy tale castle."

"If you think that this is big, then you should see Malfoy Manor," Blaise informed her.

"Ewwww, Malfoy," Hermione whined, feeling sick at the mention of the blonde haired boy who for so many lives had made her life a living hell, "I suppose that since he is your best friend, I will be seeing rather quite a bit of him, won't I?"

"Oh, he's really not that bad, Hermione. He was just jealous of your grades, and didn't like the fact that a 'mudblood' beet him in all his grades. But nobody will be saying anything bad about my little sister if I can help it" Blaise said in a protective tone.

"Hey! Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed in sudden realization, "Malfoy is going to absolutely freak when he finds out that I am a pureblood!"

"Yeah, I suppose that he will," Blaise chuckled, "Tonight is the night that you will be presented as Hermione Zabini, pureblood witch."

"Why? What's tonight?" Hermione questioned, full of curiosity.

"Tonight is our annual masquerade ball," Blaise announced.

A Masquerade ball! Hermione's honey eyes flashed with excitement, for she had always wanted to go to a masquerade ball, and now she was. This new life really did seem to be a fairy tale, and all that was missing was her handsome knight in shining armor.

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**Authors note: Please don't kill me! I realize that Draco and the time travel have not been in the story yet, but I promise that they will be shortly. Draco will be in the next chapter, and the time travel will be in the one after that. I PROMISE, cross my heart and hope to die. It would make me REALLY HAPPY IF YOU WOULD ALL REVIEW!**

**Thank you SOOOOOOOOOOOO much to: Red and Gold, A tragic tale, hplucky, Autumn( ), doublelily, Hazel Light, Silent-Serpent, Ebony-Amanda-brittany44, and seaweedqueen who all reviewed. I truly appreciate it.**


	4. Chapter 4: Maquerade Magic

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. If she didn't know any better, she wouldn't be able to recognize herself. No one would be able to guess that only yesterday, she was Hermione Granger. Now she looked every bit of the pureblood Zabini that she was.

That afternoon, Priscilla suggested that they should go shopping for some new clothes for her. Hermione expected for them to shop in Diagon Alley, but instead they made their purchases at Paris's most exclusive shopping district for purebloods. All of the salespeople in each store made it their personal mission to find the perfect robes for Hermione.

They bought so many robes, that Hermione couldn't think of when she could possibly wear them all. It simply wasn't practical to have so many silk and satin robes. But then again, she wasn't a mudblood who always was worrying about her next meal anymore. She was a Zabini, a pureblood, and filthy rich. Now Hermione could afford to live lavishly and spend her money on luxurious things.

Just when Hermione finally thought that they were done with their shopping, Priscilla insisted on taking her to the chicest hair salon this side of the English Channel. Hair that was once bushy brown was now silky soft, and fell into perfect waves. Black streaks framed her newly tanned face, and black eyeliner framed her honey brown eyes. She wore lipstick in a shade called 'tiara', and her cheeks were a dusky rose color. She looked as if she belonged in a magazine.

However, it was her costume that stunned her. Dressed as a medieval princess, she wore a black and gold dress with a square, low cut neckline. The skirt opened up to reveal petticoats of golden lace, and her sleeves flowed down until they met the floor. On her head, she wore a gold tiara that was encrusted with rubies. Her necklace was a single ruby, that although beautiful, also resembled a droplet of blood. She wore a mask of gold that was shaped like vines that entwined with red ruby roses, and sapphire bluebells.

She was still gazing into the mirror in a state of wonderment when the door opened, and Priscilla stepped in. She was dressed as the Greek goddess Hera, Queen of Mount Olympus, in a white toga that sparkled with diamonds.

"Oh, Hermione, dear," she said, her usually giggly voice now warm and motherly, "You look a picture. All the boys at the masquerade won't be able to take their eyes off of you. Come now, the carriage is waiting."

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Hermione stepped out of the carriage, and gazed in awe at the glorious house in front of her. It was colossal, even bigger than her own house. The extensive front lawn, which was littered with other purebloods, dressed in a wide variety of costumes, was magically lit by floating candles. A large orchestra was playing what sounded like Beethoven, but since he was a muggle, it was likely that it was not.

Suddenly, a tall and graceful woman came gliding over towards them. She was dressed as the legendary Egyptian princess, Cleopatra, except this woman had blonde hair. Hermione took her to be roughly the same age as Priscilla, but she somehow seemed a bit more sophisticated and mature than Priscilla.

"Priscilla, darling, how delightful that you are here at last!" the blonde woman exclaimed, wrapping Priscilla into a hug, "but who is this exquisite beauty?"

"Narcissa, I would like you to meet my daughter. This is Hermione Lavinia Zabini. Hermione, this is my good friend Narcissa Malfoy," Priscilla said, introducing them.

'A Malfoy!' Hermione thought. No wonder she thought that blonde hair looked so familiar. This was Draco Malfoy's mother! Well, if his mother was here, then that probably unfortunately meant that Draco was lurking around here somewhere.

"Oh, my! So you are Priscilla's daughter, eh? Well it is lovely to see that you re finally here with us, as you belong. Now, why don't you run along and enjoy yourself? You're mother and I have some gossip to catch up on," Narcissa suggested.

Rather a bit reluctantly, Hermione started walking through the crowd, trying to figure out what to do. She never really was one to dance, as she didn't think that she could do anything except to slow dance. Yet she was too shy to ask any of these strange boys to dance with her. So, the question of what to do came back.

"Just bloody great," Hermione muttered to herself under her breath, "You finally get invited to a masquerade ball, and you have nothing to do except stand around looking bored."

Looking around, Hermione saw gardens grounds stretching far behind the immense house. These gardens were just as beautiful and large, if not larger, as the gardens that she had briefly explored that morning. Tall hedges created maze like paths, and strange lights flickered. Hermione ventured onto the path, losing sight of the house, and discovered that what she assumed were more floating candles, were actually tiny fairies fluttering about. Around the corner, she saw a dazzling decorative fountain that shot sparkling baby blue water out of the horn of a sculpted unicorn that was enchanted to gallop around the pool of the fountain. This garden was the most breathtaking view that she could ever hope to see.

The magical silence was broken, however, when Hermione heard a twig snap from somewhere behind her. Hermione was a bit afraid to turn around, not knowing what she would be faced with. But in this magical garden, how could there be anything evil? She was still having a mental argument about it in her head, when she heard a soft and gentle, yet questioning voice in her ear.

"Who are you? Aphrodite? Venus? Fair Juliet? For whoever you are, you are enchanting," the voice confessed.

Hermione whirled around to face this person who thought he could say such things to her. Did he not know that she was a Zabini? She was not some girl that he could bullshit into believing that romantic crap. True, Hermione was a romantic at heart, and it was also true that she was waiting for her prince charming, a guy just like Heathcliffe from 'Wuthering Heights', but she did not think that this guy was serious.

That is what she thought at least, until she caught sight of him. Dressed as a heroic knight, he practically glowed with good looks. His pale skin was just like the moon shining above them, and his vivid grey- blue eyes were soft, and sparkled like the sun. His hair was covered with a helmet that shined. There were no other words to describe him other than her knight in shining armor.

"Hello," she uttered softly, momentarily speechless, but she quickly recovered, "Who are you?"

"I asked you that first," he replied, his grey eyes that seemed so familiar, yet so new and different to her, glittering mischievously.

"If you would like to know my name, then you must wait a bit longer, seeing as I do not feel like giving it at the moment," Hermione said coolly, waiting to see his reaction.

At first he looked surprised, for you could tell that with his good looks, most girls would already be drooling, but he quickly masked his look of surprise, and said, "Well, I shall give you my name when you give me yours. For now, I will just have to settle with calling you my fair lady, seeing as you refuse to tell me your name."

"But who says that I am _your _fair lady? I belong to no one," She replied flirtatiously. What had gotten into her? She always frowned down upon those girls who would sound so foolish flirting with a boy, yet here she was doing it herself. She couldn't help it; simply being around this boy was intoxicating.

"Fine, fair lady whom belongs to no one, would you care to dance with me?" he asked, bowing like a perfect gentleman. His whole manner may have been normally sickeningly romantic, but Hermione's heart melted when he smiled.

"I would love to, kind sir," she said curtsying, and mimicking his formal manner.

The music from the party wafted into the small cobblestone path that they began to waltz on. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, feeling oddly at ease with this stranger whom she had just met. They waltzed in silence for another few minutes. It was not an awkward silence, but it was as if they were communicating to each other on a subconscious level.

Then, just as all good things must come to an end, the song was at last finished, and Hermione reluctantly broke away. She heard the clock strike mid night, and feeling rather a bit like Cinderella, she knew that it was time for her to retire into her bedchamber. Just as everyone did at these sorts of events, she would, of course, be spending the night in a spare bedchamber of the host's house.

"Wait, where are you going?" her prince charming implored as she started to walk back towards the manor.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," Hermione murmured softly.

Her knight rubbed his temples in exasperation, as he replied, "Well, if you must go, at least let me walk you back."

But it was too late; she was already gone.

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"This was a perfect night," Hermione sighed, smiling inwardly at remembering her knight in shining armor. He was so... chivalrous and romantic. She felt like she was in love, but she knew that she had not known him long enough to be in love.

Perhaps she would see him tomorrow, in the gardens for a morning stroll. The Malfoy's truly did have a gorgeous garden. Speaking of Malfoy, Hermione was really glad that she did not have to put up with his cruel sneers and snide remarks. She could just imagine the look of shock on his face when he saw her with her new beau. After all, she could remember him once commenting that no one could ever fall in love with a bucktoothed book worm like her. Although, it wasn't as if he was in any position to say such things, as she was sure that no one could possibly ever love him either.

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**Authors note: What do you think? I really like this chapter. I know it a little sickeningly sweet with the romance, but not for long.**

**You all do realize who the knight in shining armor is, don't you? Skin as pale as moonlight, and gorgeous grey- blue eyes that sparkle like the sun? Well, if you don't get it, then you'll just have to wait until next chapter to find out!**

**NOTE: time travel will be in the next chapter!**

**I would like to thank all of you darlings who reviewed. Nothing makes an author have more inspiration than reviews, so PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you to: Draco-an-hermione-4eva, hplucky, Spike1368, Autumn( ), Red and Gold, seaweedqueen, Amy( ), doublelily, and draco's woman who were all wonderful to review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Uh Oh!

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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The next morning, Hermione woke up and headed downstairs for the giant breakfast buffet that it was rumored that the Malfoy's had set up. As much as she truly hated Malfoy, she had to admit that his house was amazing. It was far bigger and better than her own, although she hated to admit it. The guest bedchamber that she stayed the night in had its own private balcony, and it was richly decorated in shades of silver and black. The colors perhaps made it a bit unwelcoming, but it was still magnificent.

Also, the Malfoy's sure knew how to throw a party! Priscilla had a hangover that Hermione quickly healed with a charm, and Blaise was still sleeping in from his late night. She knew for a fact that he didn't go to bed until at least four, which was rather late since this was no teen house party. Hermione, on the other hand, enjoyed the party for different reasons, such as her very own knight in shining armor.

Hermione looked around the extensive veranda where the breakfast buffet was set up in search for her sweetheart. The only problem was that she didn't know what he looked like. She didn't even know his name. She was sure, however, that she would be able to recognize his eyes that were as grey as a storm, and yet as blue as the sea.

Instead of seeing prince charming, though, she saw Blaise standing near the food tables. She strode over to him, ready to scold him for his late night. Naturally, she didn't approve of the fact that her older brother was drinking last night, and that he was probably with a girl.

"Oh, I see that you're finally up," Hermione said as Blaise yawned loudly, "What exactly was it that kept you up so late last night, anyway? Or should I say who was it?"

In a millisecond, Blaise turned redder than even Ron ever did, obviously quite a bit embarrassed. "No one; It doesn't really matter anyway, it's not as if there is anything wrong with it. I mean, there aren't going to be any catastrophes just because of it."

"Blaise Machiavelli Zabini!" Hermione exclaimed in a scandalized tone, "Are you mad? These things have consequences, you know! I hope that you at least used protection! The girl, whoever she is, could get pregnant. And haven't you ever heard of STD's? I can't believe that you would be so irresponsible! I expected better of you!"

"Geez, Hermione, it was just a bit of fun. Chill out. Anyway, if you're going to lecture me, don't do it at someone else's house in a public place. Got that?" Blaise replied in a deeply annoyed voice as he walked away with a plate of bacon and maple pancakes.

"Bloody idiot," Hermione muttered under her breath, thinking that no one could hear her, "When will he learn? 'No big deal, just a bit of fun'. Honestly! He is in for such a rude awakening when he gets some poor girl pregnant. He really should follow the rules!"

"Bugger off, Granger," said a sudden snide voice muttered absentmindedly from behind her. Hermione whirled around to find herself face to face with Draco Malfoy. Who was he to speak to her like that? She was Hermione Zabini, not Hermione Granger! Why had no one informed him of that yet?

In truth, Draco didn't even see the petite girl with the black streaks in her brown hair and the honey brown eyes. He had simply heard the same old bossy voice of Hermione, and spoke without even thinking about why she was there. It was automatic, as he heard that nagging voice all the time at school. All of sudden, he realized what had just happened.

"Bloody hell, Granger! What the fuck are you doing here at _my_ house?" he blurted out.

"I happened to be invited, _Malfoy_," Hermione shot back crossly.

"Why would anybody in their right mind invite a mudblood like you to Malfoy Manor?" Draco sneered.

"Oh? Has no one told you? Well, that's not too surprising, seeing as no one 'in their right mind' would want to talk to you. But still, it's rather odd that you don't know..." Hermione trailed off, watching as a wide array of looks crossed Malfoy's face. First he appeared to be shocked that she didn't start crying about him calling her a mudblood, and then his look turned to confusion. Finally, he became quite angry looking, infuriated that she was talking to him like that.

"What are you talking about, Granger," Draco said in a low and dangerous voice that suggested that she had better tell him.

"Well, as it seems, when I was a baby, I was put up for adoption," Hermione began, only to be interrupted by Draco.

"Who wouldn't want to put you up for adoption?" he snickered.

"Stop interrupting, it's rude," Hermione scolded, trying to finish her story, "Anyway, I was put up for adoption, and it was the Grangers who adopted me. They were so kind and loving, but they told be that my real family wanted me back."

"Okay, got it so far. But who is this family, and why in Merlin's name would they want you back?" Draco drawled.

"You know them. In fact, I believe that my brother is your best friend," Hermione replied calmly as she watched Draco's face as register what she just said.

"Blaise? You mean... no, no, that can't be true," Draco said, his eyes wide in horror.

"That's right. I'm not Hermione Granger anymore. My name is Hermione Lavinia Zabini," Hermione said proudly and defiantly.

"You... a Zabini... no... not possible... can't be true..." Draco managed to say, speechless.

"It is true. I guess you can't call me 'mudblood' any more. My blood is just as pure as yours," Hermione said, wearing the smirk that was usually plastered on Draco's face.

"Well, then what were you doing at the party last night? How come I didn't see you?" Draco demanded angrily.

"Let's think, genius. Maybe you didn't see me because it was a masquerade ball?" Hermione answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Anyway, I was busy... talking to people. What exactly were you doing?"

"I was strolling through the gardens, where I met an absolutely amazing girl," he replied smugly.

"That girl can't be too smart if she was with you," Hermione laughed, "Anyway, I was with this terrific guy, who was more of a gentleman than you could ever be."

"I can be a perfect gentleman if I want to. Anyway, what sort of a guy would actually be able to stand being around you without going mad. He must have been such bloody idiot," Draco said, "At least the girl that I was with, who by the way, is absolutely nothing like you, had good taste. After all, she was with me. We had a marvelous time in the gardens."

"Draco Malfoy, you are such a slimy, annoying, ferret-like, egotistical bas-" Hermione started to say, but then stopped suddenly. Her stomach lurched as she realized the last part of his speech.

"Gardens?" she questioned weakly, afraid that she knew the answer already.

"Yeah, Granger –er- I mean, Zabini, what does it matter? I was with this girl who was dressed like a medieval princess, even though I never found out her name," Draco said, wondering why she was staring at him in horror. Her honey brown eyes were filled with fear. Those honey brown eyes that he had seen so many times before, but were suddenly filling him with dread.

The two teenagers just stood there, staring into each others eyes, realizing exactly why their eyes seemed so familiar. The mystery of prince 'charming' was solved, although both were disgusted by the answer.

"That was you! Was that some kind of sick revenge? What did you do, cast a spell on me to make a total fool of myself?" Draco bellowed.

"I did no such thing! You were the one who came up to me to practically confess your undying love to me!" Hermione shouted in repulsion.

"I can't believe that I almost kissed that thing!" Draco muttered to himself, feeling As if his breakfast was going to come back up.

"I AM NOT A THING! I AM A PERSON, AND I HAVE FEELINGS TOO!" Hermione screamed, tears starting to fill her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

They were starting to cause quite a scene, and soon enough Priscilla and Narcissa came running up to see what all of the shouting was about.

"What is wrong? Hermione, why are you shouting?" Narcissa questioned in confusion.

Instead of answering, Hermione's tears started to fall, and she started running. She didn't know or care where she was going, as long as she could escape the scene that she had just left behind her. She found herself in the garden, and threw herself onto an intricately carved stone bench, and let her tears pour out.

A little while later, Hermione had stopped crying, but was still miserable. She snapped her fingers, and her CD player that was bewitched so that it ran on magic, popped up beside her. She slipped on the headphones, and allowed herself to get lost in Elvis's deep southern voice.

As she sat there, she wondered what it would be like to live in the fifties. What would it be like to see Elvis, in his younger days before the '68 comeback, live in concert? Soon she was completely imagining herself in a front row seat, watching Elvis perform. Her imagination was so strong, that it seemed so real.

Hermione opened her eyes, ready to snap out of her daydream and go back to the real world, but what she saw surprised her. There right in front of her, was Elvis Aaron Presley, performing his hit song 'Heartbreak Hotel'. She shook her head, and pinched herself to see if she was awake. Sure enough, the pinch hurt, so what she was experiencing must be real enough.

Looking down at herself, Hermione realized that she was no longer wearing her blue jeans with the fancy blazer. Instead, her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and tied with a pink scarf, she wore a plain white blouse, and o her surprise, a poodle skirt. She looked as if she was an extra in the movie 'Grease'.

The scariest thing was that she couldn't wake herself up. This wasn't a dream, or even a vivid fantasy. This was real, and she didn't know what to do.

Hermione Lavinia Zabini was stuck in the past. She was stuck in 1955, without a clue about what to do.

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**Authors note: What did you think of their little fight? I thought it was great, but I want to know what you think! What about the time travel, you ask? I guess you'll have to read my next update to find out!**

**About last chapter: Draco was acting like that because, although he may be an arrogant arse in school, he was raised to be a perfect gentleman to other purebloods. And as for Hermione? Well she was just a love struck teenager who was alone with Draco Malfoy in a magical garden. I mean, come on! Wouldn't you be drooling?**

**Thank you to all my faithful reviewers who include: hplucky, Spike1368, Red and Gold, bellgirl( ), and Autumn( ). Like I always say, I really do appreciate it. Nothing can be better than your opinions, and it makes me happy every time I read them. Thanks so much!**

**As for everyone else, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6: Back to the future

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Hermione closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. She was back in time, watching Elvis Presley perform her favorite songs. Yet, as much as she adored him, she was too freaked out about wondering how she got back there. If she didn't know how she got there, how would she get back?

"Golly, he sure is handsome, isn't he," said a pretty girl with a blonde ponytail and an American accent.

"Yes, he is," Hermione replied, "Listen, do you think that you could tell me where I am?"

"Where you are?" the girl repeated in her southern twang, confused at Hermione's question, "what do you mean 'where am I'? You're in Tupelo, Mississippi, of course."

"Oh, yes, now I remember," Hermione replied quickly, hoping that this girl wouldn't question her any longer, "My name is Hermione Zabini, by the way."

"Hello Hermione Zabini, my name is Susannah O' Hara," Susannah said, shaking Hermione's hand, her blonde ponytail bobbing excitedly, "You sound British. What are you doing in little 'ole Tupelo?"

"I came to see Elvis, of course," Hermione said.

"You came al the way from England just to see Elvis?" Susannah asked disbelievingly, "He may be a good singer, but I didn't think that his sound has reached England already. Last that I knew, they still didn't know his name in New York."

"Er, I'm really sorry, but I have to go," Hermione said nervously. She really needed to work on her lying skills. She looked around the crowded club, and finally saw an exit at the far end. She hurried over, as her claustrophobia was starting to kick in.

She stepped out the door and took deep breaths of sweet, cool, and refreshing air. The club had been so smoky; it was a bit difficult to breathe in there. Now the questions came popping back into her mind. Why was she in 1955, at an Elvis concert? How did she get there? Even more importantly, how was she going to get back?

"Blimey, what the bloody hell are you doing here?" said a sudden voice from behind her. Hermione whirled around for the second time that day, and found herself facing Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy was wearing leather trousers, with a matching leather jacket. His usually shaggy blonde hair was greased, and was teased and gelled to look just like Elvis Presley's, only Draco's hair was blonde.

"What are you talking about? What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione snapped in an accusing tone that suggested that he was trespassing on private property.

'Fine, if you're going to be that way...' Draco thought, starting to walk away as he muttered, "None of your damn business."

'Same arrogant and rude Malfoy', she thought, 'as if I give a crap that he's walking away. It's not as if I need him anyway.' Then realization struck her, and she realized that if Malfoy was so nonchalant about being in the 1950's, then he must know what to do. Perhaps he even goes back in time quite often.

"Wait Malfoy!" she shouted, hoping that he would turn back and help her. She couldn't believe that she was actually doing this. She, Hermione Zabini, was actually going to ask Draco Malfoy, arsehole of the world, for help.

"Yes?" he asked suspiciously. Knowing Hermione, she was probably calling him back so that she could tease him about liking Elvis, a muggle. He would never hear the end of it I that was what she wanted.

"I was wondering if... well..." Hermione began, unsure if she should actually go through with this.

"If what? Spit it out," Draco said impatiently. At least it didn't seem as if she had realized that he was at an Elvis concert yet. That had to be a good thing.

"Well, you see, I was wondering if... if you knew how to get out of here. Back home, I mean," Hermione said, looking at the ground so that he wouldn't see her blush.

"Do you mean that you don't know how to get back? This is your first time back?" Draco said in astonishment.

"Yes, this has never happened to me before. I don't even know why I am back in time," Hermione admitted, "So, how exactly do I get back? I don't exactly know, do I would appreciate it if you would stop dawdling and tell me."

"HA!" Draco yelled in surprise at a new revelation that he had made, "I KNOW SOMETHING THAT YOU DON'T KNOW! AND YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW EVERYTHING!"

This time, Hermione didn't have a chance to hide her blush as she sputtered, "Yes, well...I can't help it... it's not my fault..."

"I know something that you don't know, I know something that you don't know," Draco taunted in an annoying sing-song voice.

"What are you, a first year? That is so childish. Now are you going to explain, or are you just going to leave me stuck in the past?" Hermione said with irritation as she stomped her foot.

"I don't know. I am seriously tempted to leave you here. That would make my life a whole lot better," Draco mused, but stopped when he saw the daggers that Hermione was glaring at him, "Fine, I'll explain it to you."

"Just before you were transported back here, were you imagining it?" Draco asked, his taunting voice now serious as he began to explain.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything? I was imagining that I had a front row seat at an Elvis concert, and the next thing that I knew, Elvis was singing his heart out right in front of me," Hermione said, confused.

"Blimey, Zabini, are you really that dense? Put the two together!" Draco exclaimed in exasperation, "You must be like me. I am a teleporter. There are very few teleporter's in the world, seeing as it's a very rare gift. I realized that I was one when I was fifteen. One day, I was imagining what it would be like to go back to see the legendary Quidditch World cup of 1748. I opened my eyes, and sure, enough, I was sitting in the Top Box, just as I imagined that I would be."

"But how did you get back?" Hermione asked.

"Wait a moment, will you?" Draco said, annoyed that she had just interrupted him. How dare _she_ interrupt _him_? "Anyway, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, I was about to say how you go back in time. Whenever you imagine a place and time very vividly, it's like a key unlocks some part of your mind, and you are transported back to wherever you were thinking of."

"Well that would explain it..." Hermione muttered, "So how exactly do we get back home?"

"You click your heels together three times while saying 'there is no place like home'," Draco said solemnly.

"Really? Okay, finally I can go back," Hermione said, closing her eyes and starting to click her heels together. Draco snickered at how gullible she was.

"Hey!" she said suddenly, opening her eyes, which now flashed with anger, "You are such a bloody liar, Draco Malfoy! I can't believe that I almost fell for that!"

"I can't help it if you are so stupid that you almost did that," Draco sneered, "If you really want to get back, simply do the same thing and imagine your home as best as you can."

This, Hermione knew was the truth. After all, it was only logical. But before she left, she had a question to ask Draco.

"Malfoy?" Hermione called out.

"What is it now? Why aren't you gone yet?" Draco said, aggravated.

"I was jut wondering what you could possibly be doing at an Elvis concert," Hermione said, giggling when she saw Draco's usually pale face turn into a deep red. Then, after remembering her new home, Hermione was gone without a trace.

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**Authors note: haha, I love Elvis Presley sooooooo much! Please REVIEW!**

**Thank you to: Autumn( ), Silent-Serpent, doublelily, seaweedqueen, Red and Gold, and hplucky who all reviewed. It makes me really happy to read all of your comments!**

**Also- why didn't Blaise defend Hermione last chapter? If you recall correctly, he stalked off after Hermione started lecturing him. But believe me, Draco has a lot to answer for when Blaise finds out how he insulted his little sister... ;)**


	7. Chapter 7: Auld Enemies

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Hermione sat down at the cherry wood table and pressed a glass of ice water to her forehead to ease her pounding headache. Time travel may be interesting, but it gave her a killer headache. The noise that Blaise called music didn't help much either. She couldn't understand what he saw in that rap music.

When she had returned from her little adventure, Hermione found Priscilla searching for her. They took their gleaming golden carriage back to Zabini Manor. Blaise headed straight towards his room were he started blasting rap music by the king of rap in the wizarding world, Lil' Warlock. Hermione, on the other hand, decided to check out the library, which Blaise assured her was almost as big as the Hogwarts library.

Sure enough, it was gargantuan. It seemed as if there was every single book that was ever penned by a wizard or witch, and even a few books by muggles. Hermione grabbed a book entitled 'How to Speak Veela', by Daniella Delacour, who happened to be Fleur Delacour's cousin. The giant fire in front of her roared with warmth, and a candle scented the room of vanilla.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps disturbed her from her reading. Hermione glanced up in search of where the footsteps could possibly be coming from. Strangely enough, they seemed to be coming from the fire place. Sure enough, who would step out but Draco Malfoy.

He was no longer dressed in a greaser jacket, and his hair was no longer gelled to look like Elvis. Now he was wearing a tight fitting deep green t-shirt that showed off his abs that were the reward from years of Quidditch. He wore leather trousers, and some form of wizarding skater shoes.

"What are you doing here?" Draco questioned Hermione spitefully when he caught sight of her curled up reading a book.

"Is it that hard to figure out? Maybe I'm here because I live here and I like to read Malfoy," Hermione replied coolly.

"Oh yeah," Draco snickered, "You, reading a book. What a shocker. What book is it this time? Something that shows you how to get a life?"

"For your information, my book is 'How to Speak Veela' by Daniella Delacour," Hermione snapped, trying not to let Malfoy see that he was bothering her.

"Isn't she related to that French girl? That chick was hot," Draco said.

"Of course you would think so. Anyway, Malfoy, I wouldn't suspect you to be a skater," Hermione pointed out.

"What are you talking about? I don't skateboard. That is a muggle sport, even if it is widely accepted by the wizarding word. I am shocked that you would even suggest such a thing," Draco replied in a disgusted voice.

"Then why are you wearing skater shoes?" Hermione questioned.

"Oh, those? I just thought that they looked cool," Draco said offhandedly.

At that moment Blaise finally stepped in. He had finally turned off his rap music (or 'rap crap' as Hermione called it') and heard Draco's voice coming from the library.

"Draco, how nice to see you," Blaise said coldly.

"Yeah, you're finally here. I was coming over here to talk to you, since I didn't really see you at the party," Draco said, oblivious to Blaise's icy manner.

"What a shame, I'm so sad," Blaise replied, his voice soaked in sarcasm that would have made it obvious to even a two year old.

"What's the matter, Blaise? Are you mad at me or something?" Draco said, taken aback at Blaise's sarcasm.

"Gee, I don't know, why do you think that I would be mad?" Blaise said, his brilliantly blue yes flashing with anger. His sarcasm could really chill you to the bones.

"I don't know, why?" Draco said, completely ignorant.

"Perhaps it might be because you were being such an arsehole to my little sister today? Do you think that could be it?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," Draco said, remembering his fight with Hermione that morning, "But listen mate, I didn't know that she was your sister at first. Then after that, she was being rude to me, so I was rude back. Honestly, it wasn't my fault."

"It's never your fault, is it Draco? Do you ever actually take responsibility and admit that sometimes you're wrong?" Blaise questioned.

"Sorry mate, responsibility isn't exactly my thing. Anyway, I'm never wrong," Draco replied arrogantly.

"That's bollocks! No one is ever right all the time! You are such a conceited ferret!" Hermione burst out.

"Let me take care of this, Hermione," Blaise said gently to his sister.

He turned back to Draco, anger etched across his tan face, "She is right! You ARE a conceited, arrogant, stuck-up, snobbish, high and mighty arse who thinks that he is better than everybody else. No one, and I mean NO ONE, can get away with insulting my sister without awaking my anger."

"Oh, come on Blaise. It's Hermione, who is friends with Pothead and Weasel-Bee," Draco whined.

"Frankly, I don't give a shit about who my sister is friends with. She is smart enough to figure out to stay away from creeps like you," Blaise sneered.

"Get a hold of yourself, mate! This is Hermione, the mudblood, remember?" Draco shouted.

"Get out of here now," Blaise whispered in a dangerous voice, angered by Draco calling his sister a 'mudblood'.

"But Blaise-" Draco said, shocked that his best friend would betray him.

"GET OUT!" Blaise thundered, the quiet room echoing his shout.

Hermione thought that the look on Draco's face was priceless as he silently turned around and marched right back into the fire place. New black lowlights in her hair, ten galleons. A whole new wardrobe straight from Chanel and Malkins, five hundred galleons. The look on Draco Malfoy's face when Blaise told him to get out, priceless.

"Sorry about that," Blaise apologized to Hermione for raising his voice in the presence of a lady.

"You want to know what I think is so funny about you purebloods?" Hermione giggled.

"What?" Blaise inquired.

"Whenever another pureblood is around, you're all so formal. You all have impeccable manners, and seem so chivalrous," Hermione declared.

"Of course we are. We guys are brought up to be perfect gentlemen, and you girls are brought up to be proper young ladies. Some people, like Draco, don't think that half bloods and muggle borns don't deserve to be treated decently. That shows just how much of a snob that Draco really is," Blaise explained.

"Yes, well I still find it all rather funny. Anyway, I'm tired and am going to bed. Good night," she yawned.

"Sweet dreams, little sister," Blaise replied.

Indeed, Hermione did have sweet dreams that night. There was a figure in her dreams that danced and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. She could not see his face, but he was the most charming person that she ever meant, even if it was only in her dreams.

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**Authors note: What do you think of Blaise's reaction? Was it what you expected? Better? Worse? I suppose that you'll just have to review and tell me (hint, hint)!**

**Thank you so much to: hplucky, seaweedqueen, ghzowy( ), doublelily, bookwormJ for reviewing!**


	8. Chapter 8: Of Death Eaters and Darkness

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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For the next week, life in the Zabini household went undisturbed. There had been no visitors since that day that Blaise had that huge blow out fight with Draco. Hermione could tell that Blaise missed his best friend, but he was too proud to admit it. He wouldn't apologize to Draco because he thought that Draco was the one who should apologize to him, and quite frankly, Hermione completely agreed.

"I don't know Blaise," Hermione said one day when Blaise was pacing back and forth, obviously in a bad mood, "I personally think that you're better off without him."

"Oh, shut up!" Blaise snapped at her.

Hermione looked as if she had been slapped. "May I remind you that you are the one who called him a creep and told him to get out."

"Shut up! Just shut up! You are the one who started this whole thing in the fist place!" Blaise screamed, his face red and contorted with rage. He gave her one last venomous look and stormed off into the fireplace to some unknown destination.

'Oh great. Just what I wanted to do. Get Blaise mad at me,' Hermione though sarcastically. Just bloody terrific. Now she knew how Draco felt when Blaise was mad at him.

Then, just as if he knew that she was thinking about him, Draco Malfoy walked through the fireplace. Hermione couldn't exactly figure out what it was, but Draco seemed different than usual. He wasn't walking with that arrogant air about him, and his signature smirk wasn't plastered on his face.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she spat, still cross from her argument with Blaise. It was the first argument that they had since she had moved in.

"Come on, Hermione. I'm really not in the mood to deal with you right now," He said, a tired and worn look in his eyes that Hermione had never seen before. He looked almost... vulnerable.

Wait, Draco Malfoy, vulnerable? In Hermione's mine, there was no such thing. So she decided that this was the time to get him back for all of those times that he had tried to make her life a living hell.

"What's the matter Draco? Daddy didn't buy you a new broomstick?" she asked as if she was talking to a toddler.

In reply, Draco shot her a glare, but said no smart remarks back to her. Why wasn't he getting mad? Hermione almost stomped her foot, because if there was anything that she wanted to do right now, it was to piss Draco Malfoy off big time.

"Oh I get it!" Hermione exclaimed, "You're so upset because Pugface Parkinson finally turned you down!"

There was still no reaction from Draco. What was up with him anyway? Usually all you had to do was insult the way that he wore his hair, and he would have his wand out and ready to curse you into smithereens.

"I know what is bothering you. Your death eater father was probably torturing you, right?" Hermione taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

This time Draco turned around to face her. His cold grey eyes almost glowed with rage. Hermione's honey eyes grew wide with terror as Draco advanced on her, backing her against a bookcase. She had never seen him so angry. Not even last year when Harry sent his father to Azkaban. She knew that his father had broken out of jail with the help of the Dementors, and she naturally assumed that he was in hiding.

"Don't you ever say anything about me or my family, you filthy little mudblood. You don't know shit about me," Draco said, his face inches from hers and etched with rage. Hermione was actually afraid that he might even hit her, but no such blow ever came.

"What bug crawled up your butt, Malfoy?" Hermione spat.

"I see that you still can't keep your nose out of other people's business," Draco sneered.

"What business do you have Malfoy? Are you afraid that I'll find out that you fin ally became a death eater? Well, I have news for you Malfoy, everyone already saw hat coming," Hermione teased.

"I SAID SHUT UP," Draco roared as he grabbed Hermione and shoved her against the bookcase. Pain shot through her arms where Malfoy had grabbed her. He had pushed her so hard that quite a few books fell down. One book that was purple and gold fell down with the pages opened.

"God, Malfoy! What the hell is wrong with you?" Hermione yelled, rubbing her sore arms.

"Stay the bloody hell away from me," Draco muttered as he began to walk back to the fire place. However, he was stopped as if by an invisible force.

The purple and gold book started glowing. Pretty soon the words were coming out of the book, and swirling around Hermione and Draco, almost like a tornado. The two teens could faintly hear chanting in the background somewhere.

"What did you do?" Hermione screamed at Draco, covering her ears in an attempt to stop the chanting that was filling her head.

"I didn't do anything!" Draco shouted, looking around frantically. It was as if they were floating through space and time, the room around them no longer visible through the words and the chanting.

Then, just as suddenly as the words and chanting had appeared, they stopped. The strange floating sensation had also stopped, and both Draco and Hermione had felt themselves land on some rather hard ground. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw Hermione lying next to him, unconscious, before he too blacked out.

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About an hour later, Draco felt his eyes fluttering open and he shielded them from the harsh sunlight that was now streaming down. He rolled over and found himself staring at Hermione. She too seemed to be waking up, albeit a bit disoriented.

He looked around for any clue of where they were. From what he could tell, they were in a deep forest. Just as Draco was beginning to think that they were no where near civilization, he heard something coming from a road that was off in the distance. He watched it go by and saw that it was a horse drawn carriage.

That, however, wasn't the most shocking thing. Draco could tell that the person in the carriage was a wealthy lady who was dressed in an old fashioned gown. The footman who was driving the carriage wore a fancy coat and breeches. His hair was long and gathered in a ponytail, just like it was in the days of knights and princess's.

Hermione also seemed to have noticed the attire of the people whom had just passed them in the carriage. A look crossed her that Draco never thought that he would see on Hermione's face. It was confusion.

Her warm honey eyes flickered with mystification as she asked, "Malfoy, where are we?"

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**Authors note: What do you think? Hermione may have seemed a bit OOC when she was taunting Malfoy, but keeping mind that she is now a pureblood. She may still be the same 'ole Hermione, keep in mind that nobody is perfect, and the sudden rags to riches may have gone to her head a wee bit.**

**And why, you may ask, was Draco so worn and tired? Why did he blow up at Hermione like he did? I suppose that you'll just have to keep on reading to find out!**

**Thank you so much to: hplucky, viper8401, Draco-an-hermione-4eva, Red and Gold, doublelily, A tragic tale, seaweedqueen, Silent-Serpent, snowmouse( ), bookwormJ, and Danish Pastry 28 who all reviewed. I love you all for reviewing, so keep at it!**


	9. Chapter 9: Little Princess

Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Her warm honey eyes flickered with mystification as she asked, "Malfoy, where are we?"

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Draco looked around at the wooded area surrounding them. There was no indication whatsoever to what time period they were stuck in. For that matter, there was no indication to where they were.

"Were you thinking about the past before we came back here?" Draco demanded, his steely grey eyes flashing with annoyance.

"NO, as a matter of fact I was not! I WAS thinking, however, abut what an arse you are! Did it ever cross you're thick skull that maybe this has something to do with that weird book that was acting quite odd?" Hermione retorted.

"Oh yeah..." Draco said, a look of realization spreading across his face.

"Yeah, maybe next time you'll think of the obvious instead of accusing everyone around you," Hermione grumbled, "Anyway, maybe we should try to figure a way out of here."

"Me? Work with you? In you're dreams, Granger," Draco sneered.

"Oh, come on, Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly, "Even I thought that you were past all of that childish snobbish nonsense! Do you want to try to get back home or not?"

"I would like nothing better than to be at Malfoy Manor right now in my own bedchamber. However, I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. I have no intention of helping you," Draco drawled.

"DRACO MALFOY! You are such a bloody snob! You foul, pureblooded, arrogant, conceited, egotistical, vain, bigheaded piece of sh-" Hermione screamed, her honey eyes glowing with rage, but was cut off by Draco.

"Language, Granger. Obviously no one ever taught you decent manners. Anyway, you think that just because you get top marks in every class that everyone else must need you're help. You think that you're the only person capable of thinking, and that the world would shut down without you're help," Draco replied coolly.

"Well if that is how you feel, then good luck trying to get back! I'll be back in no time, and when I do get back I'll look into history books and read all about your tragic demise," Hermione snapped.

"Sure you will..." Draco said while rolling his eyes.

"I'll get back on my own, so you can just run off and attempt to o the same. I don't want help from a self-centered prat like you," Hermione burst, her face red with rage.

"Fine!" Draco shouted back, his own face white with anger.

"Fine!" She yelled back.

"Fine!"

"Fine!" Draco bellowed, finally turning around and marching off into the forest, leaving Hermione standing in the small clearing all alone.

'Just bloody terrific,' Hermione thought to herself, 'Brilliant plan, Hermione. Now you are all alone in a forest that is Merlin knows where and in a whole different time period. Oh yeah, that is real smart.'

She looked around for any possible signs of life, but she saw nothing. The road was empty, and dusk was beginning to set in. So Hermione decided that perhaps another carriage might go by, and she walked over to a rock on the side of the road and sat down.

Hermione had been sitting for about an hour, during which time the sun had set over the mountains, and darkness now reigned over this strange kingdom. Her white floor-length sundress was made of light fabric, and the night air was beginning to chill her to the bone. The sounds of an approaching carriage became audible, and suddenly realized what a dangerous situation she was in. If these people were robbers or worse, she could easily be dead.

However, fate had no such ill luck in mind for her. The carriage was obviously fine, it must have cost a fortune. It was obviously a royal thing. Two women rushed out in too much of a hurry to be assisted by the footmen. Their gowns were absolutely stunningly fancy and wealthy.

"Miss Hermione! There you are!" The first lady exclaimed. She looked to be about a year or two older than Hermione. She had golden hair and green eyes. Her dress was navy blue, and was lined with gold.

"Yes, indeed! Thank goodness that we have found you!" The other girl cried. She had dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. Her gown was olive colored, and she carried a red silk cape. The two of them managed to get a hold of Hermione and push her into the waiting carriage which happened to be made of solid gold.

"How could you do such a thing to us, Miss? We have spent the entire day searching for you!" The golden haired girl complained.

Hermione simply stared at the two well dressed women in front of her in wonder. Who were they? Why did they keep calling her 'Miss'? This was all too confusing for her.

"Excuse me, but who are you? Where am I?" Hermione questioned.

"What are you talking about, Miss Hermione?" the brunette asked, rather quite a bit confused.

"Who are you? I don't know you. I don't know where I am," Hermione said in a rush.

"Oh, now I understand," the blonde said, casting a knowing glance at the other girl, "You were probably off doing something dangerous again, weren't you? What have we told you about climbing trees and the like? I suppose that you must have gone and hit you're head this time. You do know who you are, don't you?"

"Of course I know who I am," Hermione replied resentfully, "My name is Hermione. However, you have yet to tell me who you are."

"I'm glad that you know you're name. That means that you haven't gone totally mad. My name is Tatiana. I am a wee bit surprised that you forgot. We have been friends ever since I could remember," the brunette, Tatiana, replied.

"My name is Lavinia," the blonde girl, Lavinia, declared, "Don't you remember what happened today?"

Hermione shook her head no in response. She had never seen either of these two girls before, but apparently they knew her. Tatiana claimed that they were good friends, but Hermione was still wondering what was going on.

"This morning we were all taking a walk along the river, when you decided to give us the slip and run away," Lavinia began, "As always, you claimed that being in the castle was stifling, and that you were becoming suffocated. When we finally got outside, you made a run for it. The last that we saw of you, you were running into the woods without a care in the world. It wasn't so carefree for Tatiana and me though. We spent the entire day looking for you."

"Yes, it was very tedious. It was quite boring. You really need to stop doing such unladylike things Hermione. You're father would be ashamed of you. After all, you are a princess."

A princess! That was Hermione's last thought before she blacked out.

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Authors note: what do you think? Sorry it took so long, I had writers block.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!


	10. Chapter 10: WHAT?

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Draco marched through the deep woods rather hesitantly. A couple hours ago, it seemed to make perfect sense to leave know-it-all Granger standing there all alone. But he had been walking for hours and there was still no sign of civilization. Not that he would ever admit it to her, but Draco actually wanted to go back to Hermione. At least then he wouldn't be alone.

Perhaps it had been rather foolish of him to walk off all alone into the deep woods of some place that he had never been to before. This definitely wasn't England, that was for sure. This place had a mystical quality about it, and Draco could tell that something was different about this place.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Draco stumbled out of the woods and into a small village. The 'village', if that's what you could call it, was made up of quite a few small huts. These huts were made of stone with straw roofs. Of course, to Draco, these seemed totally disgusting. After all, his house was one of the largest in all of England.

'Just bloody terrific, I must have arrived in the town of the filthy. These people here look so dirty. Granger probably belongs here, with her dirty blood,' Draco thought for a few moments, 'Oh, yeah. Granger isn't even a Granger. She is a Zabini. Oh well, to me she still seems to be the same scummy mudblood as ever.'

"Draco! There you are! Where have you been?" demanded some guy who had just walked up to Draco. This guy was dressed old fashion, but he sure wasn't royalty.

"I have been walking in the woods. You know, getting a little fresh air," Draco said, waiting for this strange guy, who looked to be about his own age, to introduce himself.

"Well, you're lucky that it was your day off. You shouldn't be so late though. The castle gates will close anytime now. We have better be going back up to castle now," The guy said, motioning for Draco to follow him.

Well, if there was a castle, then surely things couldn't be too bad at this place. But Draco wondered why the gates would close on him if he was the lord of the castle. And why did that guy say that he was lucky that it was his 'day off'? What would Draco need a 'day off' for if he was a lord?

Suddenly, Draco understood completely. He wasn't some simple lord of the castle; he was the prince of the castle! This definitely couldn't be that bad. The position of prince (or maybe even king!) certainly held quite a bit of power. If there was one thing in the world that Draco craved the most, it was power.

They entered the castle, and Draco's jaw dropped. This castle was amazing. It was even more... mystical than Hogwarts. It was simply astounding.

Suddenly the guy that Draco had been following stopped in front of a simple looking room. Anyone could tell that this was not a room of royal quality.

"What are we doing here? Is this not the servants quarters? Why am I here with commoners?" Draco asked, clearly quite confused.

"What are you talking about, Draco? Have you gone mad? This is your room," the guy replied.

The look of surprise and confusion on Draco's face must have told the stranger all that he needed to know. The guy nodded understandingly and walked into the room, motioning for Draco to follow him.

"Did you get drunk at the tavern again, Draco?" the stranger asked sympathetically.

"Of course I did not! Us Malfoy's would never go to such a filthy place as a tavern! Dirty commoners are there! Why would you ever suggest such a thing? Anyway, who are you?" Draco retorted.

"Draco, Draco," The stranger, who still had yet to introduce himself, "When will you learn that five bottles of firewhiskey is not the answer? You must have drunk a lot if you can't even remember me. I am Aidan. We have been friends since we were wee bairns, don't you remember?"

Draco simply stared at Aidan blankly, waiting him to explain more. Where was he? Why the bloody hell was he, Draco Kieran Malfoy, doing in the servants quarters?

"Okay, fine. Here we go again," Aidan mumbled. Clearly he must have to explain things to Draco quite often, "This is the castle of the royal family of Burgundia. This happens to be your room, therefore indicating that you are not a member of the royal family."

At this point, Draco rolled his eyes. Aidan was clearly completely mad, for everyone knew that the Malfoy's were the best, the elite.

"You know, Draco, I really don't know why you always get like this when you're drunk," Aidan chuckled, "I always have to drag you back to the castle, when half the time you are acting like a raving lunatic. You are always going on about how you should be the king. You're lucky though. If the real king saw you in such a drunken state or heard the things that you say, then you would soon be out of a job and home."

"And what exactly is my job?" Draco asked through gritted teeth, trying not to lose his temper. Who was Aidan to insult Draco by saying all that stuff about him not being royal? Draco had purer blood than nearly everybody.

"Well, Draco, what you lack in wealth, you make up in intelligence. You happen to be the personal tutor to her royal highness, the princess of Burgundia, Princess Hermione," Aidan explained.

PRINCESS HERMIONE! The world has turned upside down! How could that mudblood (okay, so maybe she was a pureblood) be a princess of royal blood? Yet he, Draco Kieran Malfoy was her tutor. Her friggin' tutor! That was practically her **_SERVANT!_** The world as he knew it was over.

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**Authors note: Sorry I haven't updated in like forever. It's kind of hard with exams and all. But I only have two exams left, and they are next week.**

**Thank you so much to Danish Pastry 28, hplucky, brittney (), bookwormJ, snowmouse (), and Silent-Serpent who all reviewed. I really appreciate it!**


	11. Chapter 11: Don't Even Think About It

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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_What is going on?_ That was Hermione's first thought as she woke up the next morning, finding herself in a bed that she had never slept in. A canopy hung from the four posters which spiraled up toward the ceiling, enclosing her in a tiny room of sheer pink silk. Yuck. Hermione hated pink, yet it was all around her. The warm comforter was pink, as well as everything else in the room.

"I'm glad to see that ye are awake, Princess," said a servant girl who had just entered the room and who had begun to open the windows and let fresh air in, "Normally I have to wake ye up myself."

"Mistress Tatiana and Mistress Lavinia told me all about your fall yesterday," the girl chattered on, "I'm sorry to hear abut it. They say that ye are having trouble remembering everything. Well, I suppose that they wanted me to help ye today. You know, so that ye dinna get lost in the castle."

Hermione stared at this girl. She had tan skin, very much unlike the paleness of the nobility. Her red-gold hair hung in a simple braid, and she wore the simple outfit of a maid.

"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" Hermione questioned bluntly. She was sick of not knowing a single soul in this wretched castle. Right now, she would give anything to see and speak to a familiar face. Even speaking to Malfoy would be a blessing. And that was saying something.

"Oh, how silly of me! I canna believe that I forgot to introduce myself, with ye forgetting everything and all. My name is Ashling," the girl, Ashling said, "Right now ye must get up and oot of bed. Ye have lessons this morning."

"Lessons?" Hermione repeated blankly. This new piece of information was a welcome relief. At least she would still have the pleasure of reading books. She knew that she must have seemed like such a loser, but Hermione didn't care. When she read, she could forget about her problems and travel to a whole new world without leaving the comforts of her home.

Unfortunately, Hermione no longer was home. She wished that she could escape from this strange new world. Sure, Hermione had to admit that becoming a princess definitely had its benefits. She enjoyed the fact that no one could insult her by calling her '_mudblood_' and _bookworm_' anymore, but she still felt a sense of unease.

Another bad thing about this world, which Ashling had informed Hermione was called Burgundia, was that Hermione had a deep feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was no longer in the magical world. These people didn't seem like muggles, but they were still human, and defiantly not witches and wizards.

After a great feast in which Hermione had attended in the dining hall last night, Hermione noticed many beautiful tapestries on the walls. Some were so big that they covered the whole wall. Each and everyone used rich, bold colors that seemed to make the scene come alive. Many of these tapestries had magical subject matter such as unicorns and mermaids. So although these people were not magical, they were well aware of magic.

After Hermione was finally dressed (which took quite a long time, what with all of the clothing that Ashling put on Hermione. Honestly! Why the bloody hell was it so necessary for her to ear so many things?), Ashling finally escorted her to the room in which the royal tutor awaited Hermione to begin.

"Here we are, Miss," Ashling said as they stopped in front of a giant oak door. She had become much more reserved now that they were in a main corridor of the castle, dropping her informal manner as soon as they stepped foot out of Hermione's bedchamber.

"Thank you Ashling," Hermione said politely before entering the room. Even if it was unprecedented for a princess to be polite towards a servant, Hermione had no intention of being a snob.

She opened the door with a heavy heart. Who knew what would await her in the room? In stories that she read about princesses of the past, such as the young Queen Elizabeth I, and the young Mary, Queen of Scots, they had rigid schooling. Hermione knew that Elizabeth could understand Greek and Latin. What if she walked in there and couldn't do a single thing?

However, instead of seeing some old, stern teacher, Hermione found herself alone in the room with a young man of her own age. He was none other than Draco Malfoy himself.

"Malfoy!" Hermione yelped in surprise, "What the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Don't even think about it Granger," Draco growled.

"Don't even think about what?" Hermione asked, her curiosity now peaked. What was he so angry about?

"You know what," he snarled.

"Draco Malfoy, what on earth are you talking about?" Hermione demanded.

"You mean that you haven't realized that- never mind," Draco replied, looking very relieved.

"Have you gone mad? Well, forget about that. We have bigger issues," Hermione stated, "We need to escape from this place. We need to figure out how to get back home."

"Gee, really? I was planning on just sitting here and rotting in this stupid place," Draco said, his icy voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Knowing you, you probably would just sit here, you lazy arse," Hermione muttered, too stressed out to take any of his stupid sarcasm.

"Don't _ever_ let me hear you say such a thing to me again! Otherwise you shall suffer the consequences!" Draco shouted at her.

"Ooh, what are you going to do to me? Shout at me some more? I am so scared," Hermione giggled, "Anyway, you can't do a single thing to me. In case you have forgotten, I am the princess! Which means that you are..."

"Don't even say it," Draco growled warningly. He knew what she was just realizing, and did not want to hear her say it out loud. She would never let him live it down if she did.

"I'm the princess, and you are my tutor. Which means that you are basically my SERVANT!" Hermione shouted out gleefully.

'_Just bloody terrific,_' Draco thought bitterly. This was going to be a long lesson.

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**Authors note: haha! Draco is finally getting a taste of reality. Which is that he is not the center of the universe (but he is the center of MY universe!). What do you think?**

**Also- some of you may have noticed the misspellings when the character of the servant girl, Ashling, is talking. Those are meant to be there, to show her accent when she talks.**

**Thank you SO MUCH to all my loyal reviewers!**

**Danish Pastry 28- thanks, I think I did fairly well on my global exam. It was easy.**

**Hplucky- I love Draco as much as the next person (okay, probably more than the next person), but isn't it fun to see him suffer with being a GASP commoner?**

**bookwormJ- What do you think of this chapter? It's not my favorite, but I think its okay.**

**KristiFan000- thanks; can you have banners on If so, then I would be very happy to see the banner!**

**VioletAshkevron- I agree, who couldn't love Draco? Especially with Tom Felton playing him in the movie? sigh**

**Song of Rain- which book do you like better? Wuthering Heights or Pride and Prejudice? For me, it's a tough choice, but I'd have to pick Wuthering Heights.**

**Yali- thanks for the terrific review! That made me very happy! Are you glad to see Draco angry about not being the center of the universe anymore? I know that I am!**

**Monies- thank you! Do you like this chapter?**

**Tryoku- I hope that there aren't as many typos in this one! I know what you mean though. Don't you hate it when you can't even read the fanfic because there are so many of them?**

**brittney ()- Is this new chapter to your liking?**

**HryPotterluver- Don't worry, I'll keep writing. This fanfic is fun to write.**

**Avanell () - Am I dragging it out enough? I don't want to drag it out too much, but it will be there next chapter too.**

**Emma Lovegood- Thank you for the constructive criticism. It really does help.**


	12. Chapter 12: I'm Sorry

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged**.

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"You are my servant, you are my servant!" Hermione taunted in an annoying sing song voice. Now this was something that didn't happen everyday. Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, was a servant to her, Hermione Lavinia Zabini. It was like a soap opera.

"Oh, shut up, will you?" Draco groaned. She was certainly being very annoying with all of that teasing.

"I can't help it though. It is amazing! Draco Malfoy is my servant! Ha! They should make a TV show out of this," Hermione crowed.

"What's a TV?" Draco questioned.

"It's a... well, never mind. It would take forever to explain to you," Hermione replied.

"Why?" Draco questioned suspiciously. Was she saying what he thought that she was?

"Because you are so bloody daft you wouldn't get it. Anyway, you are so arrogant about being pureblooded, that you wouldn't want to understand a 'dirty muggle' invention," Hermione answered.

"Well, you have a point there. Muggles are stupid creatures who aren't worthy of my time," Draco drawled, making the most of his aristocratic accent.

"Why do you always have to be such an arse, Malfoy? Muggles are really smart, if you think about it. They can do all sorts of things without the use of magic! Anyway, Malfoy, how long could you go without magic?" Hermione demanded angrily.

"I am Draco Malfoy, I can do whatever I want, and I will do it the best. I could probably last longer without magic than you, Granger," Draco sneered.

"Highly unlikely, Malfoy. Also, exactly how long will it take you to remember that I'm not a Granger anymore?" Hermione snapped.

"True, you may technically be a Zabini now, but you are still Hermione Granger, little miss perfect. Or are you?" Draco said, raising his eyebrow for full effect.

"What are you trying to get at, Malfoy?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. She had other things to do than listen to Draco try to make her feel bad by taunting her. There was nothing that he could say to her anymore. He had already used the word 'mudblood' too much for her to care anymore. Anyway, she was a pureblood, and just as good as him.

"All I'm saying is that you used to be so proud of your family. Yet now, it seems as if you have forgotten all about the people who raised you, the Granger's. That doesn't seem to be the same girl who is the Golden Girl of Gryffindor," Draco smirked.

Hermione's mind went blank as she stared at Draco, tears slowly beginning to fill her honey brown eyes. If he had wanted to say something to torture her, then he had just hit home. But the worst part was that Hermione couldn't even call him a liar.

It was true. Draco wasn't lying when he said that Hermione had forgotten all about her real family, the Granger's. When she left them to meet her biological family, Hermione had told them that she would never forget them. Yet, here she was arguing that she was a Zabini, not a Granger.

Also, Hermione had promised them that she would write everyday. She had been with the Zabini's for a couple of weeks, and she hadn't written to her adoptive parents at all. In fact, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She had been so caught up with her new family, that she completely disregarded the family that she really loved.

Draco stared at the petite girl in front of him. Tears were freely flowing down her rosy cheeks, and her honey eyes were filled with hurt. Draco stood there, and shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to see the sad sight in front of him, yet unable to tear his eyes away.

He had meant to taunt her, to torment her. He wanted to get a good reaction out of her, and expected her to possibly even slap him. What he didn't expect was for her to burst into tears, not even saying a word in her own defense. Draco felt a strange sensation near his heart, but he couldn't remember what it was called.

It was an emotion that Draco never felt before. His father trained him not to, and he simply didn't care about it. It was the last emotion that he should have felt about part of the Gryffindor Dream Team, let alone Hermione Granger- or rather, Hermione Zabini. The strange emotion was guilt.

Draco couldn't understand why he was feeling guilty about hurting her feelings. He had done it loads of times before, and when he did he would always get a sense of satisfaction knowing that he was hurting the mudblood. But then, she would always snap back with some witty insult. But right now she was crying, a look of hurt evident on her face.

"Er, Gra- Hermione," Draco said carefully, correcting his almost- mistake with her name, "Are you alright?"

_'That was a stupid question, Draco,'_ he told himself, mentally smacking himself in the head, '_of course she's not alright, just look at her. She looks as if her heart has been smashed into a million pieces.'_

"What, I mean is, I'm sorry," Draco whispered.

Hermione then ceased her crying. Did Draco Malfoy actually apologize to her? The thought alone was preposterous! But Hermione heard it herself with her own ears.

_'He must have hit his head or something,_' Hermione reasoned, '_Malfoy would never apologize to me. He hates me, so therefore there is no reason for him to apologize to me. Unless he actually feels guilty... no, that's impossible. Malfoy's never feel guilt, or any other emotion besides cruelty.'_

"Sure you're sorry, Malfoy. You can take that bullshit apology of yours and shove it up your arse," Hermione spat at him, briefly glancing at the shock etched across his face before she took off running.

She didn't have a clue to where she was going, and quite frankly, she didn't care. All Hermione wanted was to get away from Malfoy. Far away.

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**Authors note: Here's the new chappie, what do you think? I wanted to show a bit of a new side to Malfoy. He actually felt guilt, can you believe it? And towards Hermione?**

**Thank you to my ever wonderful reviewers. I love you all and will send you each autographed books when I am a rich and famous author!**

**Danish Pastry 28- You want to know what? You are almost always the first person to review! That is awesome.**

**Bookwormj- Yeah, I have to say that I would pick Slytherin. For one thing, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini (who also sounds quite attractive) are in that house. Also, Slytherin's can have more fun and get into trouble and stuff. And I bet that Potions would be much easier too!**

**Hplucky- Yes, poor Draco. But now he will (hopefully) get a taste of reality and understand that he can't be such an arrogant prat.**

**Song of Rain ()- When I first read Pride and Prejudice, I was in love with Darcy too. But then I realized that I'm _too much_ like him. I never talk and hide my feelings when it comes to guys. Heathcliffe is the classic literary hero of my heart.**

**Yali- Well, what did you think of this chapter? Can you believe that Draco Malfoy actually felt _guilty_! Maybe from now on he will be a bit more sensitive when it comes to other people's feelings.**

**Kandygurl4- Really? Well, thank you very much! I hope that you liked this chapter just as much.**

**stargazer starluver- Yeah, I read Somnio Eturnus too. This story may be a wee bit like that, but I'll make sure that it's different. I'm not copying that story or anything.**

**IIBleachedII- Now Draco, Mr. I-get-everything-that-I-want-because-I-am-so-rich-and-pureblooded is now a SERVANT! Haha! I love Draco dearly, but you gotta love it!**

**Silent-Serpent- Thanks for reviewing again! You review like every time, and it makes me happy that you enjoy my story so much. Keep reviewing!**


	13. Chapter 13: Contemplations of Apologies

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Hermione ran through the dark corridors of the castle, hoping to find sanctuary in an empty room or corner. Her eyes were now dry, but salty streaks cascading down her cheeks were still visible where tears had fallen.

She didn't know why she was so rude to Malfoy back there. Malfoy was supposed to be the rude one, and _she_ was the one who was supposed to have impeccable manners. Yet she had just refused his apology.

That was another thing that was... odd. Why the bloody hell did Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin and Heir to Darkness, apologize to her, Hermione "Know It All Mudblood" Zabini. He wasn't even capable of having feelings of any sort, let alone feelings of remorse.

Perhaps he had finally remembered that she was a Zabini, not a Granger. True, even though it was thanks to him pointing out (even if it was cruel) that she had neglected her real family, she was still a Zabini. By law, at least.

Or maybe he had finally realized that it was NOT ok to go around insulting everybody that was not 6'4", blonde, pale and a total slime ball. In other words, anyone who was not Draco Malfoy. Maybe now he knew that if anything, it was better to be kind than to be cruel.

Hermione had always thought that bullies were just people who were really insecure, and felt that they needed to belittle others in order to make themselves feel better. Perhaps Draco Malfoy was the same way. But he seemed like he did have a lot of self confidence. If anything, he was to egotistical.

Anyway, what could be wrong with Draco Malfoy's life? He was rich, spoiled, and conceited. He got everything that he could ever want, and girls at school worshiped the ground that he walked on. What could make _him_ feel insignificant and worthless?

Hermione dismissed that question that haunted her mind and turned her thoughts to other things. Where was she? Perhaps running down the corridors of an imposing and unfamiliar castle wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. Shadows now seemed to creep closer to her, and the darkness appeared to be closing in.

"Princess! What are you doing here?" asked a male voice from around the corner. Hermione spun around to see who it could be. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the man standing before her.

The man before her, who appeared to be only a few years older than her, looked like a Greek god. His platinum blonde hair was long, and tied back. His hair almost reminded her of Draco's, but his eyes were nothing like the stone cold eyes of the Slytherin Prince.

This guy's eyes were a deep dark brown. They were so dark, that they almost appeared to be black. Yet they seemed to be deep, an endless pool of ebony. His face was rather pale, and perfectly chiseled. He was flawless.

"I am sorry to have startled you, Princess. I am Prince Liam," he introduced himself, his rich voice laced with an aristocratic drawl.

"Oh, right, of course," Hermione said, breathless and apparently unable to make intelligent conversation. What was happening to her? She prided herself on never losing her head over boys. Yet here she was, doing just that.

"Er- actually, I was wondering... could you tell me how to get back?" she asked, trying to keep her cool.

"Don't you know how? It is, after all, your castle," Liam said with a strange look on his face.

"Well, I kind of was running down the corridor, and I wasn't watching where I was going," Hermione blurted out, thinking of the first excuse to come to her mind.

"Okay, if you say so," the prince said rather skeptically, "Just follow me. Your father asked me to fetch you because lunch is ready."

"Alright," Hermione giggled, something that was uncharacteristic of her, "Thank you for your assistance."

And with that, she linked her arm with his, and the two of them made their way down to the Hall for lunch together.

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"Great going, Draco," he muttered quietly to himself as he continued on down the dark, long and winding corridor.

So that was where being polite to _her_ took him. Draco had the decency to apologize, and what did she do? She rejected him and ran away! Now it seemed as if she was the snob, and he, Draco Malfoy, was the good guy.

The 'good guy'. HA! Now that was a laugh. Anyone who knew him would tell you that Draco Malfoy was NOT a 'good guy'. In fact, it was impossible to even use the word "good" when describing him, unless it was to describe his looks. Draco Malfoy was, and took pride in the fact that he was the 'bad guy'.

He was the guy that all the girls lost their hearts to (all the girls that is, except for Hermione). But he was also they guy that would break those hearts just after he had made use of their 'undying love' for him.

Either way, it was messed up. She should have graciously accepted his apology, but she didn't. Instead she threw it back in his face and ran away. Speaking of that, where did she go, anyway?

Just as he was thinking that, Draco heard footsteps coming from around the corner. He quickly hid himself behind a suit of armor just as the mystery person turned the corner. However, it wasn't just one person. It was a couple with their arms linked. Draco didn't recognize the man, but he immediately recognized the girl. It was Hermione!

What on earth was Hermione doing walking around the castle with this strange guy! Draco felt another feeling that was unrecognizable when he saw them walking together. Damn it! What was with all of these sudden emotions? Before getting stuck back here, Draco never felt any emotions beside anger and hate.

Although he had felt this emotion before, He felt it every time that Saint Potter beat him at Quidditch. He felt it every time that he saw Weasel- Bee with his family. He felt it every time that Hermione got better grades than him.

So what was this feeling that was burning inside of him? It wasn't pleasant. It was the strong and dangerous emotion of jealousy.

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**Authors note: MWAHAHAHAHAHA! My evil plan is working! Draco is starting to feel like a human being, can you believe it?**

**YAY! 100 REVIEWS! THANK YOU ALL SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH! I LOVE YOU ALL!**

**Silent-Serpent- Hehe, don't worry. The "action" is already starting. It may be slow, but hey, I mean Draco is feeling guilty about hurting Hermione and jealous about seeing her with another guy.**

**IIBleachedII- Yeah, I know what you mean. It makes him seem more real when he has emotions like guilt. What do you think of the jealous Draco?**

**Danish Pastry 28- Hermione isn't going to rat Draco out for making her cry. Not this time at least...**

**Hplucky- What do you think this time? Hermione has found herself a new prince charming.**

**Sk8eRgIrL1990- That may have been harsh of her but... Ok, I can't bring myself to say that Draco deserved it. He didn't.**

**FaeRie Fire- No, I can assure you that Draco is not pulling a prank on her. He felt genuinely guilty and sorry for upsetting her. Strange, I know.**

**Hermione Charlotte Granger- Thanks, that is so sweet of you! But, yeah, I love to read back-in-time fics. So, there may be a few clichés that usually come with those types of stories, but I'll try to make it as original as possible.**

**Mysteriouscharm- Malfoy _did _apologize to her; she was just too surprised and angry to accept it.**

**Seaweedqueen- Don't worry about it. I'm just happy that you reviewed again. ;)**

**Sliversun- Thank you so much for reviewing! I'll try to review faster, lol.**

**Tryoku16- I know, isn't it hilarious that Draco Malfoy is actually a servant! HEHE!**

**epiphany-the-storyteller- Thanks, I just hope that you don't think that I am going OOC by making Draco have emotions of having Hermione giggle and act so... girly (you know what I mean).**

**stargazer starluver- Yeah, I'm sorry about how short the last one was. I hope that this isn't as short.**

**Yali-YAY! You were my 100th reviewer! Draco felt guilty and now he feels jealous! The world must be coming to an end as we know it!**

**Emma Lovegood- I know what you mean. It is going to be interesting to see all of these takes-place-in-sixth-year fanfics and to see them contradict the book when it comes out!**


	14. Chapter 14: Marriage Plans

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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**Authors note: I just read on the internet news about the horrible attacks on London. It was awful, and very depressing to read about. Please pray for those people who were injured and died and for the families over the victims as well. I know that I, personally, was shocked and I really hope that everyone else will be alright. It is such a shame that there are terrible people in the world today who would do such a thing, and I hope that in the future that those people will realize that violence is not necessary.**

**My hopes and prayers go out to the victims and their families. I hope that no one will suffer too much, and I hope that those who have already passed on are now in a better place. I also hope that such things will stop. In the past five years alone, New York City, Madrid, Russia, and now London are just some of the places that have been devastated by terrorist attacks. The war in Iraq also has many casualties. I hope that in the future, all of this death and destruction will be obsolete.**

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"So Hermione, I see that you have already met Prince Liam," Hermione's 'father', King Orlando, said with a slight smile.

KingOrlando was a rather chubby looking king. It was obvious to any one that he most certainly enjoyed the perks of being royal- mainly meaning that he enjoyed the endless supply of food and wine that was provided for him. He had deep blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He seemed to be the type of person who could be jolly and jovial one moment, yet fierce and dangerous another.

The Queen, Queen Regan, seemed to be the total opposite of the King. The only traits that they seemed to share were looks. She had hair that looked like gold and eyes that glimmered with silver.

While the King had a temper that was constantly changing, Queen Regan's disposition was consistently the same. Her nose was always turned up, giving her the air of a person who obviously thought that they were too good for everything and everyone around them. She always spoke in a cold voice that was always devoid of emotion

"Yes, Hermione, your father and I saw you enter with him. Needless to say, he seems to have taken a liking to you," Queen Regan said in her icy cold voice.

Hermione blushed at this comment. She had to admit, Prince Liam did seem to like her, and it was a nice feeling to know that someone might like her. It wasn't everyday that someone liked her. Prince Liam was sitting opposite her on the other side of the long table that seemed to stretch forever through the Hall while everyone ate their lunch.

"Well, I must say that your daughter is quite enchanting, sir," Prince Liam said to KingOrlando as he gave Hermione a smile that only she could see. Her heart melted seeing him smile at her, and she felt happy enough to be able to float. She was so glad that she had told him that it was quite alright for him to simply call her 'Hermione' instead of the formal title of 'Princess' all the time.

"Yes, yes, Orlando, everything is going perfectly," Prince Liam's father, King Julius, said as he stuffed his face with venison.

"What is going perfectly?" Hermione inquired, now curious, wondering about what Liam's father was talking about.

"Why, your marriage to Prince Liam, of course," KingOrlando said in a jovial tone, seeming to think that he was delivering a piece of news that would make Hermione swoon with happiness. Her reaction, however, was quite different than he had expected.

Suddenly, Hermione felt sick to her stomach. Sure, she liked Price Liam and all, but marriage? She was only sixteen, too young to be married, let alone married to someone who see had just met. It was simply too soon, too sudden. She vaguely recalled reading about how in the past, girls were often married at ages as young as thirteen. But this is not how her life was meant to be.

Hermione was supposed to fall in love, and choose the person whom she would share the rest of her life with. Just five minutes ago, she was thinking about how 'perfect' Prince Liam was, but now that he was now her betrothed, she had to stop and think again. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life with a total stranger?

The answer was no. Hermione wanted to spend her life with someone that she was not forced to marry. Everything was happening so quickly, and Hermione did not have the vaguest idea of what to do.

So she did the only thing that she could do. She ran.

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Draco paced along the dark and dreary corridor, still trying to figure out why he felt jealous about seeing Hermione with another guy. Why was he having any emotion whatsoever towards her?

But when he saw her, elbows linked with that stupid Price Liam guy, he felt burning jealousy. Why was she with Prince Liam in the first place? Draco was dying to know what she saw in him.

_'I don't trust him one bit,'_ Draco thought to himself as he trudged along, wandering aimlessly through the castles vast corridors, _'Just look at the way he smiled and talked to her! No one is that nice. It just isn't possible. He hardly knows her, but yet he smiles at her as if she is the only thing in the world that he holds dear. I know that look, and it sure isn't as angelic as it appears to be.'_

Indeed, Draco did know that look very well. It was the same look that he used many times at Hogwarts when he was around girls. He had always thought that it was amazing how easily they fell for it, believing him and his flatteries. If anything, he was rather surprised that Hermione fell for it. She was supposed to be the smart one.

He was still deep in thought when something bumped into him. It wasn't as if whoever bumped into him hit him hard or anything, it just made Draco mad that some ignorant person didn't see him and had the audacity to bump into him.

"Watch where you're going!" He said harshly before looking to see who it was. Sure enough it was Hermione, who looked as if she had just been through a very traumatizing experience. A single tear streak was visible, evidence that she had been crying.

"Oh, it's you," Draco grunted, not sure what to do with the distressed girl in front of him. She seemed so sad, and this was the second time in one day that he had seen her cry.

What was going on? Draco had never seen her cry so much before. She had no reason to cry, anyway. She was royalty, while he was stuck being the 'Royal Tutor'. Yet, here she was in front of him, her honey brown eyes filled with tears.

"What happened to you, Granger- Zabini- I mean, Hermione?" Draco asked, forcing a look of what he hoped was concern on his face. He wouldn't be able to get back home if his only hope was going mad.

"Why would you care, Malfoy?" Hermione snarled accusingly, spitting out his name as if it had a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, you happen to be crying. Again. I was just curious to what caused you to cry this time," Draco replied, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice void of malice.

Hermione looked at Draco, trying to tell if he was lying or not. She didn't know whether to tell him or not. She didn't want him to mock her, but then again, he would find out sooner or later.

"Do you really want to know?" Hermione asked him suspiciously.

"Yes, I really want to know," Draco answered, rolling his eyes while he waited for her to explain.

"Well, have you seen this guy walking around the castle? He is about your height with-," Hermione started to describe before she was rudely interrupted by Draco.

"Yeah, yeah, I've seen him. Tall bloke who goes by the name of Prince Liam, right?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, that's him. Well, anyway, my father just told me that I am betrothed to him," Hermione explained rather bluntly.

"Ok and you're so upset because?" Draco questioned.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed angrily, her honey brown eyes glowing with fury, "I am being forced to marry some guy who I hardly know! Did you ever think that maybe _that_ is why I am so upset!"

"I don't see why you got your knickers in such a twist," Draco said calmly, "We'll be out of here in no time. Or at least, we'll be out of here before you have to marry him."

"You don't know that!" Hermione shouted in exasperation, "It could take months or even years to get out of here! Or even worse, we might not be able to get back at all! Have you ever thought of that? We might be stuck here in this stupid country in this stupid time!"

"Don't be such a drama queen," Draco muttered as he looked around for means of escape. He was beginning to regret that he had even bothered to ask her what was wrong. His 'sympathy' obviously didn't help.

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger as she was about to say some sharp remark. She stopped herself, however, when she felt someone entwine their fingers with her own. Whoever it was had warm, strong hands that made Hermione's heart feel like it was beating loud enough to be heard.

"I hope that I did not just catch you being disrespectful to the Princess," said Prince Liam'susually warm voice that was now icy cold, which echoed through the corridor.

Draco looked quite annoyed to find himself face to face with the 'handsome' prince. Draco, personally, thought that Hermione was making an idiot out of herself acting so 'in love' with this strange prince.

But now that very same prince was telling Draco off for being 'disrespectful' to Hermione. Normally, Draco would simply tell him that he wasn't worthy of his time, and to bugger off, but even Draco could tell that this guy was serious. Since Liam was a prince, he could probably make life very hard for Draco if he wanted to.

"Not at all, _Prince_ Liam," Draco replied, still unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Prince Liam, on the other hand, did not look too amused about Draco's attitude.

"Hermione?" Liam asked, turning to the petite girl beside him, "Was this servant bothering you?"

Liam's question surprised Hermione. She knew that she could easily get Draco into trouble, but she wasn't so sure that she wanted to. Sure, he might be an annoying ferret, but she didn't' want to play the role of the spoiled princess who throws whomever she doesn't like into the dungeons either. She just felt that it would be wrong to say yes.

"No, I just happened to bump into Malfoy here when I turned a corner in the corridor. I asked him to point out the closest way to get to the gardens. He wasn't disrespectful or anything," Hermione lied smoothly.

Liam's deep chestnut gaze burned into her own honey eyes as he tried to determine whether or not she was telling the truth.

"If you say so, Hermione," Liam said, even though he looked as if he didn't quite believe it as he glared at Draco. Draco calmly returned the glare before walking away, disappearing into the dark and winding corridor.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, silently rejoicing that she was able to lie so smoothly. Prince Liam seemed to believe her lie. But that wasn't something that she wanted to do that often. Even though she knew that it would feel wrong to get Draco into trouble, it felt even worse to lie to Liam.

"Well, Hermione, would you still like to visit the palace gardens, or are you too tired out?" Liam asked, his dark gaze making her heart melt.

Hermione nodded, not trusting her self to open her mouth and reply. He made her feel so... strange. Her heart would beat so fast when she was around him that she probably wouldn't be able to string two words together properly around him. And since making an idiot out of herself around him wasn't exactly on top of her things-to-do list, she decided that it would be best to say as little as possible.

Liam took her hand and pulled her through the corridors until they reached a door. His grip was strong, but he wasn't hurting her or anything, even though it wasn't quite gentle.

When he opened the door, and pulled her out into the gardens, Hermione was amazed. Flowers were every where, explosions of color making it look like fireworks that had been planted in the ground. It was beautiful.

But somewhere, in the back of Hermione's mind, she was thinking about the garden at Malfoy Manor. Subconsciously, she was thinking about her own rendezvous with a different Price Charming that had been so... wonderful. That night had been totally incredible, even if it _was_ Malfoy.

"It is so beautiful," Hermione said as she looked around at the garden around her.

"Yes, it is. But it is not nearly as beautiful as you," Liam said as he cupped her chin with his strong hands and leaned in. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned in closer to him.

The next thing that she knew, Liam was kissing her.

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**Authors note: I know, I know! All of you Draco/Hermione lovers must want to ax murder me! Don't worry its still a Draco/Hermione story. Just wait until next chapter when there will be some new twists. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

**Thank you to everybody who reviewed! As for everybody who didn't, here is your reminder: _PLEASE REVIEW!_**

**The Draco/Hermione romance will be coming soon. Draco has been feeling guilt and jealousy about her, and she didn't want to get him in trouble like she normally would. And she remembers how great that night was. So its slowly getting there...**


	15. Chapter 15: The Plot Thickens

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

**_The beginning of this chapter may seem strange, but bear with me._**

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_16 years earlier_

A young woman walked through the deserted streets, her conscience nagging at her. Unknown to her at the moment, fate was watching her. Her life would soon change greater than even she could ever imagine.

She kept her eyes down, staring at the cobblestone street as she passed the many houses, all of which seemed to be looking accusingly at her. It was against the law to be walking the streets at night, unless you were a member of the aristocracy. But even they never did, for such a thing was considered dirty and improper. The only person that she had passed so far was a drunken man, wandering around, looking for an open tavern.

Finally she reached her destination. She hurriedly knocked on the dirty door that seemed so weak, it collapse at any time. After what seemed like ages, the door finally opened, revealing a tall man who quickly ushered her inside and closed the door.

"It is a good thing that you are here, Tristana," the man murmured quietly.

"Yes, it is good to see you as well, Reese," she replied, even though her mind seemed to be on other things, "Is she- is she well?"

A broad smile spread across Reese's fine features. Happiness seemed to radiate off of him and to illuminate his dark eyes.

"She is in perfect health," Reese said jovially, "Her and the baby."

"You mean that she already had it?" Tristana gasped in shock.

"Yes, of course! It is a fine baby girl," Reese said, "But come in here and see for yourself. I'm sure that she will be glad to see you."

Tristana could barely contain her excitement as she rushed over to the doorway. Sure enough, there was her best friend, with a newborn baby sound asleep in her arms. Suddenly Tristana noticed the single tear drop that rolled down her cheek. She ran over and enveloped her best friend in a hug.

"Alameda, why are you crying?" Tristana asked, "You have a child! And what a beautiful one it is too."

"Yes, she is beautiful," Alameda agreed, staring lovingly at her daughter, "That is why it is such a shame."

"What are you talking about? Why is it a shame that she is beautiful?" Tristana questioned, starting to worry that something wasn't right in her friend's head.

"She is beautiful. I want to give her beautiful things, but never will," Alameda began to explain, "She will grow up leading a life of poverty. Reese and I are happy together, but we have nothing. We will have _nothing_ to give her, _nothing_ to make her happy. When other children her age are enjoying themselves with their fancy toys, she will have to work to help us put food on the table."

Tristana stared at her in shock. Shouldn't she be happy that she had such a beautiful baby girl in the first place? So many women and children didn't even make it past the birth, but they were both in perfect health. True, it would be sad that this girl would leave a life of poverty, but that as how life was.

"Don't you see, Tristana?" Alameda asked, "This girl is special! She deserves to have _more_ than what we can give her!"

"Well, as much as I would love to stay here with you, I really must be getting back to the castle," Tristana said. She was a maid in the castle, serving the king's wife, Queen Regan.

"You mean to say that you can't stay any longer?" Alameda asked, looking greatly disappointed that her friend would be leaving at so short a visit.

"Yes, I really must. Queen Regan is going to have her own baby at any time now," Tristana explained.

"Queen Regan is about to have her baby?" Alameda questioned, a strange glint of interest present in her honey brown eyes.

"At any moment, which means that I really must be going," Tristana replied, not seeing the look of comprehension on Alameda's face.

"Who will be present at the birth?" Alameda asked, clearly thinking something important.

"Oh, just the Queen and I, I suppose. She says that she wants it to be private, and that any extra people will put her at risk of having a stillborn. But I know that she really just doesn't want anybody to see her in such a messy state. I am to be the midwife, so I _really_ have to leave and be there in time," Tristana explained.

"So, you will be the only person to see the baby for a little while? Just you, and no one else?" Alameda persisted.

"Yes, how many times do I have to say it?" Tristana asked, aggravated by all of Alameda's questions, and wondering what they were about.

So, before she had time to ask her any more ridiculous questions, Tristana turned around and began to head back out the door. She was the midwife, and at any time now, the Queen would be having her baby.

"Tristana, wait!" Alameda suddenly shouted.

When Tristana turned around, she was shocked at how strange her friend looked. Alameda's honey brown eyes seemed to glow orange, and her unkempt brown hair added to the ferocity of her appearance.

"Take the baby!" Alameda said, trying not to wake the sound asleep infant as she held her out for Tristana to take.

Tristana stepped back with surprise. She didn't know what Alameda had wanted when she stopped her, but she certainly had not expected this.

"What?" Tristana asked rather faintly.

"Take her! Take the baby! You know that we could never give this child anything but a life of poverty! The Queen is up there in the castle, ready to have a baby of her own! You will be the only person to see the baby for a few moments, anyway. You can take my child and switch it with the royal one!" Alameda exclaimed, her honey brown eyes ablaze with passion and plea.

"But... such a thing would be treason. You and I would both be executed," Tristana said softly.

"No one would stop you on the streets; you and I both know it! At least, not while you are wearing that royal cloak! Nobody would ever know," Alameda pleaded in a shrill voice.

"But... I..." Tristana faltered, at a loss for words. Whatever she was going to do, she had to do it quickly. The Queen would go into labor at any time now. And if she wasn't there in time, the punishments of endangering a royal might be just as bad as kidnapping.

"Take it! Take my baby!" Alameda said, holding the baby out. Tears were now streaming down her face.

Then, without thinking about it before she did it, Tristana grabbed the child that was being held out to her, concealed it beneath her cloak, and walked out of the door.

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Sixteen years later, Hermione, Princess of Burgundia was walking around the palace gardens in a dreamlike state. She was still dazed from the kiss that she shared with the handsome Prince Liam. True, it was spectacular... but it wasn't as breathtaking as she imagined that a kiss would be.

Unknown to her, Draco was watching her. She was different from what he used to think she was. Draco was watching her, lust making his silver eyes sparkle when he suddenly went up to Hermione, spun her around, and began to kiss her.

Hermione was surprised when she felt a pair of soft lips crash down upon her own. She assumed that it was Prince Liam, back for another kiss. It was strange though. This kiss was different. This kiss was deep and made her feel paralyzed with happiness. It was passionate, yet soft and gentle and the same time.

Then, Draco pulled himself away, knowing that he shouldn't have done that even though it had felt so right. He had kissed (and done more than jus kiss) many girls so far, but this was the best kiss that he had ever had. Draco's head was spinning so much, that he didn't realize that the petite girl in front of him had opened her eyes.

**SMACK!**

Hermione stared at the boy in front of her, who now had a vivid red mark in the shape of a hand on his pale skin. How _dare_ he kiss her like that! She had opened her eyes, expecting to see Liam, and instead saw the ferret that had for so long made her life hell.

"BLOODY HELL!" Draco shouted, feeling that sting on his cheek, like a million needles stabbing into his flesh, "What the fuck did you do that for?"

"You... you..." Hermione said trying to find the right word to call him. Then, her honey eyes began to fill with tears, and she did the first thing that came into her mind. It was something that she seemed to be doing quite a bit ever since she came here. She ran away.

"Hermione, wait! Hermione!" Draco shouted after her, silently cursing himself for letting her get away. Why did it seem that whenever she was crying, he was nearby?

Angry and confused thoughts swam through Draco's brain as he tried to make sense of what he jus did. After a few moments, he dismissed the thoughts and walked away, heading for wherever the best tavern may be.

Yet unknown to Draco, a woman lay on her deathbed. A woman who was just about to confess something that she said was very important as she lay dying of disease.

A woman named Tristana Chianca.

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**Authors note: What do you think? Did I break out of the clichés that have been gripping this story?**

**OMG! WHO HERE HAS FINNISHED READING HALF BLOOD PRINCE? Tell me what you thought of it in a review. I finished it at 8 am on July 16th (I got it at midnight).**

**I will not leave any spoilers for those of you who have not finished it, but I will say one thing: I KNEW IT!**

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	16. Chapter 16: Cold as Ice

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

**The beginning of this chapter may seem strange, but bear with me.**

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"I know that you want to see some punishment, Regan darling, but the poor old woman has just died! There is no one to punish," King Orlando said, consoling his distraught wife.

"Surely there must be something we can do! It's a good thing that that old hag died of natural causes; if she hadn't died, I would have had her head," Queen Regan said viciously.

It quickly became clear to the King that his wife was not sad, but very angry. Her anger was like a wildfire; once it was sparked, it would spread, and nothing would get in her way.

"What about the parents? Are they still alive and well?" Regan asked hopefully, "Because if they are, then their heads shall be placed at the city gates as a reminder to our people that they should never do anything to cross their queen."

"No need for such violence, Regan dear. I already checked. It seems that they both died a few years back," King Orlando explained, happy that there was no need to resort to violence this time.

Last time someone had insulted Queen Regan, she had their whole entire family executed. Someone had once described her as 'cruel', but Regan and her husband preferred to describe her as a 'firm, strong ruler'.

"Well just wait until _she_ gets back here! She will be in for a rude awakening," Regan spat.

"You aren't going to order her execution, are you?" the King asked his wife anxiously.

"Of course not, don't be silly! She will simply have to repay us for all we have done for her. Just think; she has been living off our charity for years, the ungrateful wench," Regan muttered.

"I agree with you on that, my dear. It appears as you won't have to wait much longer; here she comes," King Orlando said as the object of their discussion entered the Dining Hall.

Hermione walked through the ornate doors that were the entrance to the great Dining Hall, her head still spinning from the kiss hat she had shared with Draco.

When he had kissed her, she had assumed that it was Liam kissing her. She remembered thinking that this was such a better kiss than his last one. So she was so surprised when she had opened her eyes to discover that it was Draco.

What was he doing kissing her, anyway? He hated her, and she hated him with just as much passion. Hermione could make no sense of it, so she decided to banish the subject from her mind.

It was when she looked up that Hermione noticed that the hall had gone deadly silent, and all of the people had stopped eating to stare at her. Indeed, all eyes were on her. Even the King and Queen were giving her icy glares.

"I see that you have finally decided to grace us with your presence. We have been waiting for you," King Orlando said in a cold and unforgiving tone. He could practically feel the anger and the spite radiating off of his wife.

"Waiting for me?" Hermione repeated in a small voice, "I am afraid that I don't understand. Why were you waiting for me?"

Draco stopped in his tracks when he heard the King's voice. He had been just about to enter the Dining Hall when he heard the voice that sounded as if it was covered in ice. So, instead of interrupting the scene that was unfolding before him, Draco hid himself behind a tall elaborate column to see what would happen..

"We have something that we wish to discuss with you," Queen Regan said, barely able to contain her anger, as she bushed a piece of blonde hair out of her cold grey eyes.

"Well then please do tell me what it is," Hermione replied. Why was everyone glaring at her? As far as she knew, she had not done anything that would anger them. Perhaps Prince Liam had seen Draco kiss her...

'Fine, we shall get straight to the point," King Orlando said, before he uttered those terrible, terrible words, "The point is that you are no longer a princess."

"No longer a princess?" Hermione repeated faintly. Her breathing became short, and she felt sick. She was just beginning to enjoy the perks of being a princess, and now it was suddenly being taken away.

"Yes, you are no longer a princess," Queen Regan said, her chilly grey eyes glittering with malice, "In fact, you never were a princess. You are an imposter who has been living off of our charity for the past sixteen years. Now it is time for you to repay us."

"What... what do you mean?" Hermione questioned, but her curiosity soon became anger, "Of course I am a princess! I am Princess Hermione of Burgundia! I demand to know what nonsense you speak of!"

Regan's eyes, which had been as cool as ice, now glowed with rage like a frosty fire. She stood up and marched over to Hermione, who for a moment, thought that the Queen might slap her. Instead, Regan snatched the tiara from her head, and strode back up to her throne.

"You will learn to hold your tongue, you insolent pauper!" Queen Regan commanded, glaring at the girl who was now kneeling on the floor in front of her.

Hermione stared at the Queen in shock. A cold feeling of dread was beginning to fill her stomach, but she refused to cry. She didn't know what Regan was playing at, but Hermione wouldn't give in and give Regan the triumph of seeing her cry.

"Sixteen years ago, a woman named Tristana Chianca worked in this castle," Queen Regan began, eager to let the whole hall know what she was playing at, "I trusted her a great deal. In fact, she was my midwife when I had my only child."

A few people murmured quietly, but most remained quiet, wondering what their queen was getting at.

"She is now dead, but before she died, she told us everything," Regan continued, "Apparently, she had some friends that she had visited right before she returned to the castle to take care of me. They are no dead, but that does not matter. What does matter is that Tristana's friend also had a newborn child."

"Apparently, this woman was very ambitious. She did not want her child to grow up in poverty, but instead as royalty. So, she somehow managed to convince Tristana to switch her child with my own child, who was just about to be born."

Several people gasped, shocked at this new revelation.

"So, you see Hermione, you are not at all of royal blood. For you are the child of that filthy woman who thought that she would make a fool out of her queen! Instead, it is you who shall suffer," Regan announced.

"Before she died, Tristana told me the name of the child that grew up with those filthy traitors. The child that had grown up in poverty, but in fact was my own child; one of royal blood."

"His name is Draco."

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**Authors note: I just thought that I might show how cruel Queen Regan could be.**

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	17. Chapter 17: Regrets

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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**Authors note: Some of you may be wondering why Regan was so cruel to Hermione, even after thinking that she was her mother for 16 years. It was meant to be that way; Regan's character is supposed to be cruel and selfish. She doesn't care about anyone except for herself, and never even showed Hermione any real affection when she thought that she was her daughter.**

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_**Last chapter:**_

_**"So, you see Hermione, you are not at all of royal blood. For you are the child of that filthy woman who thought that she would make a fool out of her queen! Instead, it is you who shall suffer," Regan announced.**_

_**"Before she died, Tristana told me the name of the child that grew up with those filthy traitors. The child that had grown up in poverty, but in fact was my own child; one of royal blood."**_

_**"His name is Draco."**_

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Draco's mouth dropped open in shock as he pinched himself, wondering if he was dreaming. He thought that Queen Regan had just said that he was her true son, and the rightful heir to the throne.

He was just about to turn and walk away, to give himself time to figure things out when Regan's now smug voice echoed throughout the hall, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"In fact, there is my son now," Regan drawled in an arrogant voice that could match Draco's, "Draco, my son, come here."

It was a royal command. Draco had no choice but to turn around and face the court. Pulling a look of arrogance onto his face, he strode up to the Royal table, passing Hermione along the way. Her forced himself to look away from her sad face, and instead stared into the Queen's eyes, which were an icy silver color that matched his own.

"Draco, my darling son; how nice of you to finally make your presence known," Regan said, attempting to make her voice sound warm and motherly, but unable to keep the chill out of it, "I trust that you understand what is going on? I saw you hiding behind that column there."

"Yes, I heard everything," Draco said angrily through his teeth. Why was he so angry? He couldn't figure it out, but yet he had a horrible feeling that he soon would, and that he would not like it.

"Then why are you still standing? Come and sit up here with your father and I. You should not have to be down there with that fraud. You are, after all, of _ancient royal blood_," Regan informed him, emphasizing the fact that Draco was clearly her son.

Draco glared at the woman suspiciously as he sat down on a cushioned throne, not at all liking how evil and manipulative she was. She would definatly do well in Slytherin.

But that was the thing about Slytherin. No one who belonged in the house of the serpent trusted anyone else. While students of other houses were friends with each other, Slytherins barely even knew the definition of friendship.

However, Draco was lucky. Blaise and he were friends ever since they were small boys. At least, they used to be friends. Draco wasn't so sure anymore, seeing as they still had yet to make up after that last big fight that they had over Hermione. He regretted that he did not have the courage to apologize to Blaise, but now it was too late.

"And as for _you_," Regan said, glaring at Hermione, who was still refusing to shed any tears, "Someone will take you to the servant's quarters where you belong."

"The servant's quarters?" Hermione repeated dumbly. She was still unable to grasp the fact that she was no longer royal, and that her parents in this reality had just disowned her.

"Yes, the servant's quarters," Regan relied with a spiteful smile, "You are no longer royal; you _never_ were. You have been living off of our charity for the past sixteen years, and now you must repay us for our kindness and generosity."

"Kindness? Generosity?" Hermione repeated in disbelieving tones, her shock turning into a passionate anger, "I am surprised that you even know what those words mean! I am willing to bet that you have never done a kind or generous thing in your life! You are nothing but a spoiled, selfish, cruel bitch!"

As soon as those last words were out of her mouth, Hermione immediately regretted saying them. It wasn't like her to cuss, but her anger had overcome her in a fit of rage, and now she was going to pay for her temper.

**"YOU WILL HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"** Queen Regan shouted, standing up from her seat so quickly that her crown fell off of her head.

"Your majesty, shall we... _expose_ of the insolent traitor?" asked the head guard, who had his hand on his sword, just as the rest of his men did.

Hermione's anger quickly became fear as she saw heavily armed guards begin to move towards her, ready to strike. Now more than anything, she wished that she could take those words back. If things were bad before, now they were a hundred times worse.

"No, that won't be necessary this time. Just show her to her new rooms," Regan, who had sat back down and was trying to regain her cool composure, said.

Hermione sighed a sigh of relief that she would not be executed, or tortured, or anything. But a cold wave of panic washed over her again as the head guard grabbed her roughly and began to pull her from the hall.

"Wait! No! Let go of me!" Hermione screamed. Suddenly she looked up and remembered _him_. _H_e was the perfect gentleman. _He_ cared about her. _He_ would protect her.

"Liam!" Hermione shrieked as she pulled herself free from the guard's strong grip and ran over to the handsome young prince.

"Liam, you have to help me! Don't let them take me," she pleaded with him, gazing beseechingly into his eyes, her honey eyes filled with fear.

"Why would I do that?" Prince Liam asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Don't... don't you care about me?" Hermione asked, her eyes slowly beginning to fill with the tears that she had promised herself that she wouldn't shed.

Liam gave a harsh laugh in response. If anything, he seemed to find her desperate pleas and her tear filled eyes amusing.

"You actually believed me? Well, you sure are naïve, Hermione, I'll give you that," Liam chuckled.

"You mean to say that you... lied to me? That kiss was a lie?" Hermione demanded, almost too shocked to be angry.

"I guess that you could call it that. I am not going to pretend to like you anymore though, because you are no longer a princess. You no longer have titles, lands, or money. So therefore, you have no use to me," Liam confessed as he watched her face fall.

What happened next seemed like a blur to Hermione. Her heart seemed to break as she let the guards drag her off to her new dusty chambers. She had been so sure that Prince Liam liked her, but now her heart was smashed into a million pieces. He was using her.

Meanwhile, Draco watched in horror as the petite brunette was dragged from the room. His heart went out to her, and anger filled him when he looked over at the smug Prince Liam.

But, if anything, Draco was angry at himself. How many times had he done that very same thing to a girl? True, he was a bit more subtle about it, but he still used to break hearts for a hobby. Now he was regretting all those times that he had left a girl feel devastated while he moved on to the next girl in queue.

Draco turned around, blocking such thoughts from his mind as he gazed through the hall. Everyone was on their knees, bowing down to someone. Draco wondered who, when he realized that it was him who was being worshipped.

Him. Draco Malfoy. The new crownPrince of Burgundia, and heir to the throne.

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**Authors note: I know, I know, I'm moving this story at such a slow pace. Please don't throw rocks at me!**

**Click on this button and review please! I know that a lot of you are reading this, but only a few of you are taking the time out to review!**

**And thank you so very much to those of you who DID review! Thanks! Merci beaucoup! Gracias! Grazie! There, that is four languages!**


	18. Chapter 18: A New Life

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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The next few days passed by in a painful blur for Hermione. Ever since the surrender of her crown and title, she had been a wreck. It was amazing how she went from nearly hating how pampered she was, to nearly depending on it.

The guards had roughly dragged her downstairs to the hot and stuffy servant's quarters where her new room was. When she held the title of 'princess', her room was warm and extremely luxurious with servants constantly doting upon her, and fulfilling her every need. Needless to say, it wasn't quite like that now.

This new room was small and cramped, making Hermione feel a tiny bit claustrophobic. Instead of a nice warm bed, Hermione now had a lumpy pallet on the floor with a thread bare blanket. The fireplace only held a few glowing coals that barely radiated any heat whatsoever. It was the only source of light, and it hardly even lit the ground in front of it.

Between the worn furnishings, the chill, and the dark, Hermione felt as if she was in a dungeon. Instead of having a handful of maids to do her bidding, Hermione now had to rely on herself.

After she was shown to her room, Hermione's eyes were soon red with tears. It was unfortunately then that her former ladies in waiting decided to pay Hermione a visit.

Tatiana and Lavinia stepped into Hermione's new room, their eyes flickering over the ragged furnishings, and their noses crinkling in disgust. Tatiana hugged her thick fur cloak even closer to her, and Lavinia was struggling to with herself, trying not to say anything to mean.

"What do you want?" Hermione hissed, glaring at the two ladies in front of her. Their body language made it clear to her that they weren't here to help her.

"The Queen commands that you are now a servant. You are to hand over that dress to us, and wear this instead," Tatiana said, unable to keep the disgust out of her voice as she thrust a pile of rags to Hermione.

"Oh? Is that all?" Hermione asked sarcastically, her voice edged in hysteria.

"You're new duties as a scullery maid in this fine palace shall begin in two days time. I advise that you rest until then, for you shall have a lot of hard work ahead of you," Lavinia said, her green eyes seemed to glint with sympathy for a moment, but her nose was still up in the air.

"Well if that is all that you have to say to me, then get out!" Hermione commanded, forgetting her place.

"You _dare_ talk to us like that? You seem to forget that you are now a lowly maid, while we are ladies of the court! Do not mistake me, the Queen will see to it that your spirit is broken," Tatiana warned coldly before turning and walking away, her rich silk dress swooshing against the dirty floor as the figures of the two ladies disappeared, leaving Hermione all alone.

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So, taking Lavinia's words of advice, Hermione decided to rest. Even though getting some sleep seemed like a simple task, she soon learned that it was much harder than she had expected.

Her lumpy pallet which served as a bed made it nearly impossible for Hermione to make herself comfortable. Her ragged blanket and the dim fire made her constantly shiver. Then there were the horrible thoughts that haunted her. What type of work would she be made to do? What did Tatiana mean when she said that Regan would try to break her spirit?

As hard as it was, Hermione eventually fell into a fitful sleep. Dreams of Regan's icy glares haunted her, making her cry out in her nightmarish sleep, but no one could hear her to comfort her.

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Finally the morning that she had been dreading had arrived. Hermione was awakened by the shrill cries of the head of the maids.

"Wake up! Wake up you horrid imposter!" screeched a woman next to Hermione's ear, waking her instantly.

Hermione rubbed her eyes to wake herself up as her thoughts engulfed her. With in a few days she had gone from being the most beloved person in the castle to the most hated. Had Regan turned absolutely everyone against her? She would be lucky if she would survive the day.

"Put this on girl, I don't have all day," The cranky old woman snapped, indicating the dress that Tatiana had given her a few days earlier.

"Fine, alright, I'm going," Hermione mumbled to herself under her breath so that the old hag wouldn't hear her. She quickly changed into the ragged old shift, disgusted by it.

The new servant dress reminded Hermione quite a bit of Dobby's old pillowcase. The beige material as rough, feeling a lot like a potato sack. Much to her displeasure, the dress was low cut, revealing more skin that Hermione would have liked.

"Hurry up girl, you are wasting my time. You should already be cleaning by now. Hurry up, you don't have the whole day to get to Prince Draco's room," the old hag ordered.

Suddenly, Hermione began to feel quite light headed. Had she heard the old woman properly? No, she must not have. The truth would be far too horrible to accept, but Hermione's guts told her that she did indeed hear correctly.

"_Prince Draco_?" Hermione repeated faintly, almost scared to hear what the head maid would say next.

"Yes, yes. Prince Draco. You have been assigned to be his personal maid. You shall attend to his every need, and serve his every whim. And you shall do it without complaining," the woman instructed.

So she had indeed heard correctly. She was Draco Malfoy's maid...now that was a fate that was worse than death. The world around her began to black out as Hermione slipped to the floor, blacked out.

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_**Meanwhile...**_

Draco Malfoy leaned back, lying across his bed in his new rooms. Being a Prince was exactly as much fun as he had always thought that it would be. The power, riches and glory were amazing. Of course, he had always had power, riches, and glory. Now of course, it was official.

His new rooms were so much better than the rooms that he had before. Now, as he was lying across his black and green four poster bed, Draco could se all the luxury in his room. The walls were a deep emerald color. His wardrobe was now considerably a lot bigger as well.

Yes indeed, as he stared up at the high ceiling, Draco thought that nothing could beat his new position of power and wealth.

It was then, while he lay sprawled across his bed deep in thought that Draco heard the tall door slowly creep open, then softly close. Footprints that were clearly feminine gently sounded across the marble floors.

Who would be entering his chambers without his permission? Who would dare? After all, he was now the Crown Prince of Burgundia, and heir to the throne. Sure, he hoped that he would be back home soon, but that didn't make him any less important. So, when he looked up to see who had intruded his chambers, Draco was positively shocked to see who it was. It was Hermione Granger.

Last time Draco had seen Hermione was on the day that Regan announced that he was her son. The day when she had everything that she had come to know in this new world stripped away from her.

The Hermione Granger that stood before him appeared very different from the Hermione Granger that eh had come to know. Instead of a lavish gown, she wore a tattered low cut dress. Her hair hung limp, seeing as she had no one to fix it, and she herself was too miserable to do it herself. In general, she looked tired, sad, and basically pathetic.

Her honey brown eyes, which were still a bit red from crying, widened in shock when she saw Draco. He could tell that she was about to bolt, to run as far away from him as possible, but as his stormy grey eyes penetrated hers, she stayed paralyzed in place.

"I- I'm sorry," she stuttered, her eyes as wide as saucers, "I didn't realize that you were in here."

Draco simply stared at the girl in front of him, unable to believe that this was the courageous Gryffindor who was once as bold as to slap him when he was cheeky. The past few days had worn her out to the point that it seemed as though she no longer had any will to rebel.

"Granger, what happened to you?" Draco asked seriously, momentarily forgetting to maintain his cold exterior.

"Well... I... I guess that I haven't really been getting enough sleep," Hermione admitted, beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable by the way that Draco was staring into her eyes. It was almost as if he could see into her soul.

"Yeah, I guessed that much for myself," Draco muttered, suddenly remembering that as a Malfoy, he should always appear cold and distant, "But I see that now you are with the rest of the scum where you belong."

Suddenly, Hermione's dull eyes became filled with fire, glowing with rage as she marched right up to him and looked up at him straight in the eyes.

"Draco Malfoy! You arrogant asshole! Just because it is suddenly found out that you happen to be a prince, does not make you worthy of that title! You never think about anyone other than yourself! You never care about if anyone else is suffering! All you care about is yourself! You-," Hermione spoke passionately before being interrupted.

"Merlin Granger, do you _ever_ shut up?" Draco drawled, his grey eyes glittering mischievously. He loved getting her mad. She was so... passionate when she was angry. It amused him.

"What are you doing in my room anyway?" Draco sneered, not giving her a chance to yell at him some more.

At this question, Hermione's face turned a deep scarlet. She broke eye contact, looked down at the ground and muttered something that Draco did not hear or understand.

"Sorry, Granger. I didn't hear that," Draco said, wholly enjoying her discomfort. Yet a small part of him that he did not want to acknowledge felt guilty.

"I am your personal servant," Hermione muttered quietly, only loud enough for Draco to hear her.

Suddenly Draco's dark grey eyes lit up with malice and interest as he jumped up from the bed and stared superiorly down at the petite brunette who was still red in the face from embarrassment.

"You are my servant!" Draco crowed happily, "Not so high and might now are you, little miss perfect?"

Hermione merely sent Draco an icy cold glare in reply.

"This should be fun," the muscular blonde boy mused, "I wonder what I shall have you do first?"

"Oh, will you shut up already you pompous arse!" Hermione burst out, unable to contain her anger.

"You can't tell me to shut up. I am your master. You serve me," Draco reminded her, his stormy grey eyes alight with mischief.

"I will tell whoever I please to shut up, whether they are my 'master' or not!" Hermione hissed vehemently.

"It seems to me that you are the one that can't seem to shut up," Draco taunted.

"Of course I can shut up, you stupid git! I simply choose not to! And if my talking annoys you, then that is all the more better! Maybe I'll talk you to death, and then I won't have to deal with you anymore!" Hermione shouted.

"Fine then, have it your way. I guess I'll just have to shut you up myself," Draco said, leaning in closer to Hermione as he said it.

"Shut me up yourself? What do you mean?" Hermione questioned as she grew more uncomfortable by how little space there now was between Draco and her.

She soon got her answer as the space between them disappeared and Draco crashed his lips upon her own, kissing her gently.

It was a strong kiss. It was a magical kiss. It was a kiss that was full of passion.

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**Authors note: Sorry for the wait! It is just that I have been growing lazy and been feeling more like swimming in my nice cool pool than sitting in my hot, un- air conditioned house. But I wrote an extra long chapter to make up for that! I hope that you liked it!**

**To those of you who may be wondering about when they are going home, and how the time is passing, I'll try to explain as best as I can. They can't simply go back like they usually can. They are stuck in a glitch, and it seems as though they are stuck. Time passes just as it does in the present time, so it seems as if they have been gone for about a week.**

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	19. Chapter 19: I Don't Hate You

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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The kiss seemed to be over just as quickly as it had begun, but Hermione could still feel the invisible mark that Draco's lips had left upon her own.

It was strange though. Hermione was ashamed to admit it, but she had always wondered what it would be kissed by the Slytherin Prince. Even though she had hated him ever since they had met, Hermione did notice how good looking Draco had become throughout the years. It was nearly impossible _not_ to.

But she had naturally assumed that his lips would be cold. His cold demeanor would make any person presume that he was cold blooded. But instead of icy cool lips, Draco's lips were warm- warm with passion and desire.

"What... what was that?" Hermione asked as the odd couple pulled away from each other. Draco's grey eyes seemed to burn like a silver fire, still burning with desire from their quick kiss.

"That was a kiss, Hermione. I would expect that you would know what a kiss is," Draco drawled, his eyes regaining their icy color.

"Of course I know what a kiss is, you stupid- Hey!" Hermione suddenly explained, a look of confusion and realization crossing her face.

"What is it this time?" Draco asked, wondering what in the world Hermione was going to point out now.

"You called me Hermione," Hermione said faintly, "Not Granger, not Mudblood; but _Hermione_."

Draco's eyes widened for a moment. He did not mean to call her by her first name. He really didn't. It just seemed natural. After all, she did look more like a 'Hermione' than a 'Granger'.

He wasn't that angry that he had used her first name, he was just angry at himself for giving her the chance to realize and point that out.

"Yeah, well, what do I say? We all make mistakes once in a while, Mudblood," Draco sneered.

He felt guilty for being so cruel to her as he watched her honey eyes fill with hurt. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to call her 'Hermione' and kiss away her unshed tears, but he did not allow himself to.

After all, he was a Malfoy. And she was everything that he had been brought up to hate. He couldn't let something as minor as his feelings get in the way of his duty to his family.

He was a Malfoy.

And that was that.

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For the rest of the day, Hermione had managed to finish her chores without running into Draco again. She didn't know why he acted the way that he did.

One moment Draco Malfoy was nice to her. He would kiss her and comfort her, even call her 'Hermione'. But the next moment he would be back to calling her 'Mudblood', and staring at her with those cold grey eyes...

Ho, those eyes! They were always grey, but they seemed to change with each emotion. When he was angry, they seemed stormy; when he was cruel, they seemed to become covered with ice; and when he was passionate, they seemed to burn a dark grey fire that was so full of heat, it would warm your heart simply to look into them.

She hated that icy look that so often seemed to be in his eyes. It was the look that he gave her when he called her a mudblood that last time. So, naturally she was rather quite happy that she did not see him at all for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately she wasn't nearly so lucky the next day.

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The next morning Hermione was assigned to work in the dining hall, serving breakfast to the royal family.

She took the platters of food and quietly brought them up to the Royal Table, not wanting to draw any sort of negative attention to herself. The royals had mountains of food to eat; everything from Bacon to porridge to pancakes that were drenched in syrup.

Hermione, on the other hand was only given a small bowl of lumpy porridge to eat, barely filling her stomach.

"Oh, look! That serving girl looks rather familiar, does she not?" Queen Regan said maliciously when she spotted Hermione, who was trying to tip toe away from the Royal Table.

"Serving us our food for now, and then she will clean up after us, isn't that right Hermione? Perfectly fitting for a conniving little manipulator," Regan sneered, laughing cruelly as Hermione's cheeks turned bright red with either anger or embarrassment.

Draco watched as his 'mother' continuously insulted the petite brunette girl. He did not like it one bit.

"Oh, will you shut up already?" He finally snapped at the Queen when she had continued to call Hermione many other bad names, his bottled up anger exploding at last.

Regan looked quite taken aback at her "son's" rudeness. Draco was happy to see the look of disbelief on the Queen's face, but soon realized that insulting her might not have been the smartest thing to do.

"What is the matter Draco? You don't like that I insult that foul creature?" Regan asked, her cold grey eyes glimmering with spite, "Your defensive manner makes me curious. Are you in love with her?"

"Of course I'm not!" Draco scoffed, angry at Regan for saying such a thing. He put on a show to make it seem as if he was terribly insulted by her accusations, but deep down he had a feeling that her words might not be too far from the truth.

"Well then why do you defend her? After all, for these past sixteen years she has been living in luxury. She was depriving you of your own royal privileges. And yet you _still _defend her?" Regan scolded Draco, wondering what he was playing at.

"Perhaps I defend her because I do not want everybody to think that the royal family is cruel and heartless. Just because the Queen is a bitch doesn't mean that the rest of us have to be," Draco snarled angrily before standing up and striding out of the ding hall before Regan had a chance to yell at him.

Hermione stared after the tall blonde boy, shocked that he had just stood up for her. True, he had made it seem as if it wasn't her in particular that he was sticking up for, but Hermione was not stupid. She could tell that he had meant it when he had told the Queen to leave her alone.

Yet she still could not understand what his feelings were. He kept them closely guarded, and wouldn't let anyone see them. She wondered what he was going to do next.

So therefore she did the only thing that she could think of. She ran out of the dining hall after him.

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Draco strode angrily through the dimly lit corridors, his anger at the Queen burning inside of him. He did not know where exactly he was going, but he knew that he had to get away.

Not just get away from the Queen and everyone, but get away from this time period. He was sick of the uncertainty of it all. He missed his life back home in the present. He missed his mother, and his home at Malfoy Manor.

He also missed his best friend Blaise. Ever since the row hat they had, Draco had been thinking about what Blaise had said to him. He had long since realized that Blaise was perfectly right to yell at him like that.

Draco had continuously insulted Hermione, not exactly grasping the fact that she was Blaise's fraternal twin sister. After all, blood is thicker then water. It was no wonder that Blaise was deeply insulted that Draco had dared offend his sister.

Now, of course, Draco deeply wished that he could have the chance to apologize to Blaise. But then again, it was Hermione whom he had insulted. So perhaps it was to Hermione that he should apologize.

It was then, while Draco was contemplating whether to apologize to Hermione or not when he felt something grab his arm.

"Draco, where are you going?" Hermione asked, gazing into his stormy grey eyes, her hand still on his arm.

"Anywhere that is away from here," Draco replied.

"Can I come with you?" Hermione asked, her question catching Draco by surprise, and making him stop where he was.

"Why would you want to come with me? I thought that you hated me," Draco asked gazing at the petite brunette in front of him who was a bit out of breath from trying to keep up with his long strides.

"I don't hate you," Hermione said softly, looking up into his handsome dark grey eyes.

"Oh," was the only sound that managed to escape Draco's thoughts. He had thought that she would hate him. After all, he always made a point to say something mean right after he let his guard down, like after he kissed her.

An awkward silence hung in the air between the two teenagers, making Draco feel uncomfortable. His conscience began to nag at him, demanding that he should do the right thing.

"Hermione?" Draco said, breaking the quiet stillness.

"What?" she asked, curious to what he was about to say. His grey eyes, which moments ago were hard and callous, were now soft and gentle.

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured, looking away from her honey gazed, his fair cheeks tinged slightly pink from embarrassment.

"For what?" Hermione questioned, her honey eyes wide with surprise. What was he apologizing to her for? It seemed that ever since they came to this place, he was apologizing a lot more than he usually did.

"For that day at Malfoy Manor, when we both realized who exactly it was that we were dancing with that night in the garden. I'm sorry for being such an ass," Draco said.

"I had nearly forgotten about that night," Hermione whispered, remembering how lovely it was. She had felt so happy and joyful that night before she had known that her knight in shining armor was Draco.

"There is something else that I have to tell you," Draco said, his grey eyes alight with passion, staring into her honey eyes that were glowing with an equal amount of passion.

"That was the best night of my life," Draco confessed, leaning in to whisper it into her ear.

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**Authors note: I'm sorry, I couldn't help but to add the fluff! So tell me, is it too mushy? I'm afraid so, but my fingers made me type it. The characters wanted it to happen.**

**I'm going to try to make them go back to the present time soon, I just don't know when.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers: IcyCrystal, Danish Pastry 28, Tana, mysteriouscharm, lightning8star, coolkidd, Hermione Charlotte Granger, sliversun, LiLbLueangeL1223, Red and Gold, epiphany-the-storyteller, sienna, righteye0604, and mistyqueen.**

**DON'T FORGET TO _REVIEW_ EVERYBODY! MAKE ME HAPPY AND_ REVIEW!_**


	20. Chapter 20: A Nice Big Shiner

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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**Last Chapter:**

**"There is something else that I have to tell you," Draco said, his grey eyes alight with passion, staring into her honey eyes that were glowing with an equal amount of passion.**

**"That was the best night of my life," Draco confessed, leaning in to whisper it into her ear.**

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Hermione couldn't believe her ears. _Draco Malfoy_ had just confessed to her that the best night of his life was spent in the company of her. Hermione Granger. It was unbelievable.

She was the girl whom he had made it his personal mission to torture for six long years. She was the girl whom he had taken every opportunity to call 'mudblood'. She was the girl that he often imitated so cruelly in class, earning snickers from the Slytherins and glares from the Gryffindors.

So therefore it was impossible that he, Draco Malfoy, would ever say such a thing to her and actually mean it. He must be messing with her mind or something. That had to be it.

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked Draco, looking deep into his stormy grey eyes in search for the truth, "I mean, you're not joking, right?"

Draco looked at her, confused. What was she talking about? Oh no – he hoped that she wasn't going to use that against him in the future.

"No, I wasn't joking," Draco said, "What would make you think that I was joking?"

"You were telling the truth?" Hermione asked, more of a statement than a question, "Well, it is just that we have never exactly been the best of friends or anything. It just kind of shocks me that you would even admit something like that to me."

"Yeah, well, I'm not saying 'I love you' anytime soon," Draco warned her, "I was just hoping that we could be friends."

Hermione stared at him, before smiling at him. Draco smiled back. Not a smirk. Not a sneer. But a genuine, true, actual smile.

"I would like that very much," Hermione said, surprising herself by the answer that she gave him. Who would have ever thought that there would be a day when she would willingly become friends with the ferret?

"Well, I'd better go get some things together. I advise you to do the same," Draco said.

"What do you mean 'get some stuff together'?" Hermione asked, her honey eyes glimmering with curiosity.

"You are coming with me, aren't you?" Draco asked, wondering what she was going on about, "I thought that you said that you wanted to come."

"Going with you where? Where did I want to go," Hermione inquired, still a bit dazed from Draco's confession.

"Remember before you came after me I was actually going somewhere? If you recall before our little conversation, I deeply insulted the Queen," Draco reminded her.

"Oh yeah... I guess I forgot about it for a moment," Hermione said, her cheeks turning a dusty pink color.

"Yeah, well the way I figure, that queen doesn't seem like the most calm and forgiving person in the kingdom, now does she? She probably isn't going to be too happy about me calling her a bitch in front of her entire court. So, I think that I'll escape while I have the chance," Draco explained.

"I don't have much to get in my room, but I would like to get my other change of clothes. You know, just in case I need them for anything," Hermione said, aware of the fact that she had been recently stripped of nearly everything that she had owned.

"Alright, I think that I can manage to take some jewels or something valuable. At least then we can get what we need when we leave," Draco suggested.

"That sounds like a good idea. Who would have ever thought that I would see the day when Draco Malfoy has a good idea? I can't believe that I didn't think of that," Hermione muttered, wishing that she could be the one to come up with the good ideas.

"We don't have much time. We already dawdled long enough, and soon the Queen's guards will be coming after us. We have to hurry," Draco said, his stormy grey eyes becoming alert for any signs of danger.

"Okay, how 'bout we split up then? It would be quicker and more efficient," Hermione proposed, happy that she finally came up with an idea. She was, after all, the brightest witch of the age.

"That sounds good to me. We'll meet in the gardens, and then we can escape through the back," Draco said, beginning to walk away towards his room, but then stopped, "And Hermione-?"

"Yes?" she asked, her honey eyes meeting his silver ones.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Draco said, before turning and walking away. Hermione smiled to herself before heading to the servant's quarters to get her minimal belongings.

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Hermione stood in the palace gardens, pacing around in a circle. Her eyes kept looking around, searching for a sight of Draco coming, ready to leave.

She still couldn't believe that she had agreed to be friends with the ferret. But that was just the thing. She no longer thought of him as 'the ferret', or even as 'Malfoy'. In her thoughts, he was simply 'Draco'.

So them being friends was a good thing, right? Because if it was, then why did she feel her heart wanting him to kiss her again? Her head was telling her that she should stop thinking about him in such a manner, but her heart was telling her something entirely different.

"Where is he?" Hermione muttered to herself as she proceeded to pace... right smack into Liam's chest.

"Where is who?" Prince Liam asked as Hermione backed away, his nearly black eyes glittering with malice.

"N-Nobody," Hermione said, her back pressed against a cold stone wall, unable to back away any further.

"The 'he' that you were referring to wouldn't happen to be Prince Draco, now would it?" Liam questioned.

"How did you know that?" Hermione asked him in a faint voice.

"Well, you see, it is kind of easy to tell when one see's the two of you snogging," Liam sneered.

"You pig," Hermione muttered defiantly, her honey eyes glowing with anger.

"But now, Hermione... are you sure that he even likes you? I mean, you can be very gullible and naïve, as we both know," Liam laughed as Hermione's rage filled eyes now became filled with hurt and tears.

"I mean, I kissed you, but that didn't mean that I liked you, now did it? You may have thought that it did, but you have a lot to learn about men, kiddo," Liam said, a gleeful look on his handsome face.

Hermione stared at him, tears filling her eyes. She was angry at herself. She had trusted him, even going as far to think that he might have loved her. Now she realized how innocent and stupid she was then.

Tears kept threatening to overflow as she reflected on the past. They were just about to spill onto her pale cheeks when a voice sounded throw the gardens.

"What do you think that you're doing?" snarled a deadly voice. Hermione turned around and saw a sight that she never thought that she would be relieved to see– Draco.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't 'Prince' Draco. What, did you come in search of your pathetic little girlfriend? So you two can run away together?" Liam taunted.

"You..." Draco growled, but never got to finish as Liam smoothly interrupted, a sneer on his face that could match Draco's.

"But seriously, dude. Couldn't you even pick someone better to run away with? I mean look at her. She's filth. She is a servant, dirt that's beneath us. A pretty naïve servant at that," Liam criticized, his black eyes as cold as death.

"Take that back," Draco demanded, his voice a quiet whisper, but as deadly as a basilisk.

Liam smirked, finding amusement in Draco's anger, "Or what? You'll glare at me to death? Oh, I am so scared– "

Suddenly the annoying noise that was Liam's voice stopped as Draco's fist connected with his face, giving Liam a nice big shiner. Draco breathed a sigh of satisfaction as Liam reached up and clutched his black eye.

"YOU BAS–" Liam began to shout before Draco's fist collided with his face once again. This time, Liam slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, staring at Liam's seemingly lifeless form.

"Don't worry, he's not dead," Draco muttered, "And what a pity it is too."

"You knocked him out!" Hermione whispered, shocked, but happy.

"Yeah, I did," Draco admitted, "And you want to know what? It felt good. Now let's get going."

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**Authors note: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That felt good for me to write that! HEEHEEHEE! Good triumphs over evil. But wait– is Draco good? Who really knows? Oh well, it was still fun to write.**

**Also- I'm really beginning to think that they should be going home, to the present, soon. So you will probably (I'm not making any promises!) see that in the next chapter!**

**Thank you so very, very much to everyone who reviewed: Hermione Charlotte Granger, coolkidd, LiLbLueangeL1223, iluvdustinbreeding, Stephanie, Tana, mysteriouscharm, Danish Pastry 28, mistyqueen, Audrey, Jade-eye Halliwell, epiphany-the-storyteller, sliversun, Arwen12323, xvlinkinpark15vx, Dina Shaw, lala, dee023, mugglegirl07, Queen Red Rum, Nathifa Femi.**

**_DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW EVERYBODY! CLICK THAT LITTLE BUTTON THAT SAYS TO REVIEW AND MAKE ME HAPPY!_**


	21. Chapter 21: There's No Place Like Home

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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"Draco, we have been walking for hours," Hermione complained, "Would you mind telling me where on earth you are leading us to?"

The pair of them had made a quick exit from the castle and had been walking through the woods, with Draco leading the way. At first Hermione thought that he must know where he was taking them, because he walked with such an air of authority and confidence.

Of course, now Hermione remembered that he _always_ walked with authority and confidence. Yet they had been walking for hours with no sign of civilization, and she was beginning to think that he had absolutely no clue to as to where he was taking them.

"Why ask me? I have no bloody idea where we are," Draco muttered as he ducked under a tree branch, "I swear, we must have passed this stupid tree at least three times already!"

"What do you mean you 'have no idea'?" Hermione asked angrily, "I thought that you said that you knew exactly where you were going!"

"Yeah, well I was just saying that, ok?" Draco yelled, "I never had any idea to as where we were going, and now we're lost. And I think that we are going in circles as well!"

"Are you kidding me? This is just bloody terrific," Hermione muttered before tripping over a tree root.

Here she lay, sprawled out across the forest floor, her honey eyes burning with anger and frustration. Draco, meanwhile, was laughing, seeming to find the fact that she fell hysterically funny.

"You... you..." Hermione stuttered angrily, "This is not funny! I could have seriously hurt myself, Draco!"

"Sorry... it's so... funny," Draco managed to say in between breaths, he was still laughing so hard.

Finally Hermione got up and punched him in the arm, and boy, did it hurt him. He never would have guessed that the Gryffindor bookworm was so strong. His soon-to-be bruised arm was proof that apparently lifting all of those thick books sure helped her in the muscle department.

"I just wish that we could go home. Our real homes, not back to the castle," Hermione murmured, her honey eyes gaining a sort of faraway look to them.

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Hermione. I would give anything to go back to Malfoy Manor and see my mum again," Draco whispered.

Hermione looked up when he said that last bit. Something just seemed a bit odd about what he said, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what it was. Finally she realized what it was that he said.

"Draco," Hermione said, "You said that you couldn't wait to see your mum."

"Yeah, what of it?" Draco asked, his instincts make him act defensive.

"Well, what about your father?" Hermione asked, her eyes burning with curiosity, "Don't you miss your father as well? I mean, I know that I don't particularly care about him, but isn't it a bit harsh to say that you don't miss him as well?"

Draco sighed, his silver eyes becoming dangerously stormy dark grey.

"Where do I begin to describe why I hate my father?" Draco muttered so quietly that Hermione almost couldn't hear him.

"You hate your father?" Hermione repeated in a scandalized voice, "Draco, how could you say that you hate your father? I'm sure that he must love you. Every father cares about their child... right?"

Draco gave a harsh laugh, "Wow, Hermione, you sure have a lot left to learn."

"What are you saying?" Hermione asked, trying not to rouse his anger.

"Hermione, I know that you know that my father is a Death Eater, so there's no need for you to defend him," Draco said, getting angrier by the minute.

"My father is a Death Eater too, Draco. But he is still a nice person... to me, anyway," Hermione said, her anger turning to pensiveness as she thought about what she just said, "But then again, if he is a Death Eater, he probably isn't a good wizard in general, is he?"

"Blimey, sometimes it surprises me how naïve you are! You think that that just because your father happens to be a good father, that all Death Eaters are nice to their kids?" Draco exploded.

"Because if that's what you think then you are in for a rude awakening. I mean, come on Hermione? Do you really think that Lucius Malfoy is a 'nice person'? Wrong! He is the worst sort of person imaginable! Sometimes I wonder if he is even a person at all," Draco continued to rage, oblivious to the wide- eyed and shocked Hermione who stood before him.

"He treats the house elves like crap. I mean, yeah, they are just house elves, but that still doesn't justify his cruelty! He thinks that anyone who isn't pure-of-blood is scum, and that they should all be killed! He hits his wife, who does everything that he ever asks of her! And you want to know the worst of it? Whenever I do anything to anger him, father performs the Cruciatus Curse on me until I think that I won't be able to survive it any longer! So, go ahead and continue to defend him, Hermione!"

"Your father tortures you? And abuses your mum?" Hermione repeated dumbly, her mouth forming an **O** of shock.

"Oh, don't you go feeling sorry for me," Draco spat, "I don't want your pity."

"But Draco-" Hermione began before being interrupted by the blonde boy.

"No! Don't 'But Draco" me! Keep your stupid Gryffindor warm and fuzzy feelings to yourself, Granger!" Draco shouted furiously.

"Fine, _Malfoy_. If that's the way that things are going to be then so be it," Hermione stated angrily before turning away and walking away from him.

She couldn't believe that he had the nerve to speak to her like that! All that she was trying to do was help, and there he goes, yelling at her! Well, if that's the way that he is going to act, then she would figure out how to get home by herself.

"Where do you think that you're going, Granger!" Draco demanded running to catch up with her.

"I'm going home!" Hermione yelled, stopping in an open clearing, "I'm going home without you!"

She closed her eyes, and stood still in the clearing, concentrating very hard. To Draco's complete astonishment, she began to click her heels together three times, mumbling incoherently under her breath.

"Granger, what the bloody hell are you trying to do?" he sneered, amusement etched into his face.

"Shut up! Now you messed me up!" Hermione complained, "I'm trying to see if this works. There's no harm in trying it. Now this time be quiet so that I can finish!"

So once again she closed her eyes and began to click her heels three times, all the while repeating: "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." Needless to say, nothing happened.

"You do realize that you've gone mad, don't you," Draco laughed.

"You arse," Hermione said before she tripped once again, this time on something other than a tree root.

"Geez, I knew that you were clumsy, but you just seem to be worse than Longbottom," Draco sneered, not bothering to offer a hand to help her up.

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, still sitting on the forest floor, head bent to one side as if she was listening to something, "Listen!"

Draco held his breath and listened for whatever Hermione had heard. And then he heard it. It was very faint, but still audible. It sounded like tribal drums, and someone chanting. It sounded quite familiar, but Draco couldn't recall where he had heard it.

"Look!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing to something as the drums and chanting grew louder and louder.

It was the book. The very same mysterious book that had fell open that fateful day when they had been sent back. There it was, lying open on the forest floor.

"It's that book!" Draco yelled, having to scream because the chanting had become so loud.

"What?" Hermione shouted, "I can't hear you!"

Suddenly, everything went black as the two teenagers slipped into a state of unconsciousness, leaving the fantasy world behind them.

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**Authors note: heehee, sorry I made Draco seem so mean. It's just that the guy I liked doesn't like me... he likes my friend. So basically, I think that guys suck right now.**

**Ps- the whole wizard of oz thing was sliversun's idea. I laughed when I read that review, and had to put it in here!**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed: mysteriouscharm, LiLbLueangeL1223, coolkidd, dee023, mistyqueen, seaweedqueen, Padme-cookie, mugglegirl07, True Distortion, pretty-in-pink898, hmmmmm, TheLoveOfHisLife, sliversun, epiphany-the-storyteller, Hermione Charlotte Granger, Danish Pastry 28, stephleti, Arwen12323, RoughIslandSunrise, and Dina. I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!**

**But tell me: I didn't make Draco too mean, did I?**


	22. Chapter 22: Story time

Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

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When Hermione awoke from the deep slumber that her little adventure must have put her into, the first thing that she heard was heavy footsteps pacing around. They weren't purposely heavy; they were simply the sort of heavy footsteps that belonged to a male, and a worried one at that.

She slowly opened her eyes, which felt heavy. Her eyes were still blurry with sleep as she watched a blurry figure pace back and forth. He was tall, with jet black hair and sparkling azure eyes. It was none other than her brother, Blaise.

"Blaise?" Hermione asked faintly, wondering if she was still dreaming. If she wasn't dreaming, then surely she must be home at last.

Blaise immediately stopped his pacing and hurried over to his sister's side. He hadn't seen her in weeks, and now he could finally talk to her.

"Blaise, what is going on? Where am I?" Hermione asked before Blaise suffocated her with a hug. Apparently she wasn't the only one who was glad that she was back home.

"Why, you're home at Zabini Manor, of course. Where else would you be?" Blaise questioned, thinking it to be a rather silly question.

"I don't know, perhaps I was still... never mind," Hermione said, not wanting to think of Burgundia any more than she had to. Too many bad memories were there.

Blaise watched as a veil of sadness seemed to sweep through Hermione's honey eyes when she said that? What did she mean, before she said 'never mind'.

"Well, I'm glad that you're home, Hermione," Blaise said, his azure eyes full of sincerity, "After you went missing, all I kept thinking about was how I yelled at you. I was afraid that my last words to you were angry ones."

Hermione's face crumpled up in confusion before she remembered what he was talking about. The argument that they had about Draco; the one where he told her to shut up, and how it was all her fault. Now after all that had happened, she didn't care, but she was still curious. Something that he said sounded rather odd.

"Blaise, why did you say, 'when you went missing'? Didn't you know what happened to us?" Hermione asked.

"No, none of us had any idea where you and Draco had gone," Blaise said, his face showing how taken aback he was, "There were some ideas, however. Priscilla suggested the ridiculous idea that perhaps you and Draco had run off together, but I told her that such a thing was not possible. Apparently she didn't realize exactly how much you and Draco hated each other."

Hermione suddenly felt her heart stop at the mention of Draco. And here, Blaise was going on about saying that her and Draco would never run off together. But yet, when they were stuck in the past, hadn't she and Draco ran away from the castle together? But then... that horrible argument.

"Anyway, we were all beside ourselves with grief. We were even more worried when we realized hat there were signs of a struggle in the library, and that that book was lying open. Then, yesterday you and Draco were lying unconscious on the library floor, and once again that bloody book was there," Blaise informed her.

"What book would that be?" Hermione asked, suddenly snapped out of the sad daze that she was in just moments before. Surely he was talking about that book with the chanting.

Blaise's eyes darkened and his face turned somber as he explained, "That book is full of dark magic. It is entitled, '_L'Histoire a la Burgundia'_. The History of Burgundia."

"Burgundia?" Hermione repeated, amazed at what her brother was telling her.

"Yes. You see Hermione, Burgundia was an ancient kingdom unknown to many. It was a small European kingdom that lasted until the year 1666. That year, the kingdom simply vanished. Old maps that had dated years back no longer showed the small countries. People no longer remembered such a place. Burgundia was simply erased. Nothing is known about it except for what is in that book, which has belonged to our family for many years," Blaise enlightened her.

"Have you ever read the book, Blaise?" Hermione asked eagerly. Perhaps if he did, she could figure out where she was and what had happened.

"As a matter of fact, I have. That would explain why I know that it had once existed," Blaise said, wondering what she was getting at. She was indeed acting very curiously.

"Well, what was it like?" Hermione asked when she noticed the strange look that he was giving her, "I mean, you tell me about some country that suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth and expect me _not_ to be interested?"

"Why don't you read the book yourself if you are so interested, "Blaise snapped, not meaning to sound so angry, but doing so none the less.

"It's just that... I'm actually kind of scared of that book. After all, it _did_ make me disappear for weeks," Hermione lied. It was hard to pretend that she had never heard of Burgundia.

"Well there's not to much to tell. It was a small European agricultural country. I suppose that any points of interest would be in the royal family. Queen Regan the Great is perhaps the most famous monarch. Or at least she would be if people knew that Burgundia even existed," Blaise muttered.

Queen Regan was known as 'Queen Regan the _Great_'? Hermione's heart pounded in anger and curiosity as she remembered the Queen who was so heartless. 'Queen Regan the Cruel would suit her better,' she thought.

But she forced her anger to leave as she asked, "Who is Queen Regan?"

Now she had Blaise's attention as he eagerly replied, "Queen Regan was a fascinating person to read about! I mean, she was a very cruel person, but she was fascinating none the less. Supposedly she would execute anyone who dared insult her. And even more fascinating than her, is the story of her children."

Her children? Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to continue, for surely he was referring to her and Draco.

"You see, for many years, a princess was the heir to the throne," Blaise continued, "The princess was treated like gold, given anything that she had ever wanted. She was even set to marry a handsome prince by the name of Liam. But then everything went wrong."

One night, an old woman lay dying. On her deathbed, she made an astounding confession. Sixteen years before, when she was a midwife to the pregnant Queen, she had switched the royal baby with a common one. No one ever knew the difference, but when Regan found out, she was full of a fury so great, that she forced the princess to become a scullery maid."

Now, it turns out that the true heir to the throne was a young man who actually happened to be the princess's tutor. Regan immediately restored to him the power and the riches that were truly his. But somewhere, he and the princess who was now maid, had fallen in love."

Then, one afternoon, the Queen had insulted the girl, and he simply blew up t her, not caring that she was the Queen, and that it was treason to yell at the Queen. He stormed out of the room, and found the princess. Together they packed a few items, and ran away, so that they could live happily together."

It was here that Blaise stopped his story to catch his breath, "It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it Hermione?"

"Yes, it does," Hermione said in amazement. He had just repeated own life story to her. At least, her life for the past few weeks, anyway, "What happened to them? Did they live happily ever after?"

"No, it was not meant to be," Blaise said, shaking his head sadly, "For the Queen was furious that he dared run away with _her_ of all people. So she had her soldiers chase after them. The young couple was found hiking through the woods, trying to get as far away from the castle as possible. The soldiers caught them by surprise, and bound and gagged them both, where they were taken back to the castle as prisoners."

"While in the dungeons, the young princess managed to break out of her cell, where she immediately ran to find where her lover was being kept. She managed to find him, and they shared one last kiss before the guards caught her. She was dragged back to her cell, screaming hysterically. The next morning, the prince awoke to having the guards drag him outside. What he saw broke his heart."

By now, Hermione was practically trembling with fright, but Blaise continued.

"Down, on the emerald green lawn not too far below, he saw his beloved princess being led to a chopping block. He could see that her eyes were filled with fear, but she walked bravely, for the Queen was there to witness the execution, and she did not want the Queen to see her cry."

"So she kneeled on the cold cobblestone, and laid her neck across the block. An executioner dressed in black approached. A glimmer of a silver blade was seen, and then suddenly there was a bloody stump where her head used to be."

"It is said that the princess's decapitated head rolled towards the small audience that had gathered. It stopped in front of the Prince Liam, to whom she had previously been engaged to. He grinned, his eyes glinting with evil, and he picked it up by the hair, and held it up for the prince, the princess's lover, to see."

"The young prince was heartbroken, but now he was filled with a new rage. With near superhuman strength, he pushed his captors away, sending some tumbling to their death on the hard cold pavement below. He managed to get downstairs and out the door where Liam was awaiting him."

"They fought for about five minutes, for the young prince had managed to get a sword from one the guards that he had pushed. But alas, Prince Liam prevailed, and stabbed the young prince fatally in the heart. So one that bloody day, two young lives were lost, and a love destroyed"

Hermione stared at him as he finished his story. Then, everything went black as she slipped into unconsciousness.

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**Authors note: sorry I haven't updated, I've been busy with school.**

**So, wasn't that tragic. It made me want to cry as I was writing it.**


	23. Chapter 23: I Don't Want to be Friends

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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Hermione awoke in her own bed, where Blaise must have carried her after she fainted. Jeez, she never used faint, but ever since she came to live at Zabini Manor, her life had become a lot more dramatic, causing her to faint more than she ever did before.

But the thing was, Hermione associated fainting with weakness. She did not want to be one of those girls who plays the scared little girl who needs a big strong boy to protect her, because she thought that those girls often came off as pathetic. But she had other things to worry about right now. Things such as the mysterious life that she and Draco would have went on to lead if they had stayed in Burgundia.

When Blaise had offered to tell her about the 'tragic story of the princess and her prince', she had been fascinated and intrigued. But then as he went on with his story... she began to feel her blood run cold. Thinking back on it, now safe in her bed in the present, she recalled how her hair stood up, and how tiny little goose bumps began to raise on her arms.

Needless to say, she was in total shock and full of fear. It was a god thing that they had gotten back in time because otherwise... well, otherwise they would no longer have to worry, because they would have been dead by now.

Then, suddenly, the flames of her fireplace seemed to move apart, creating an opening. Then, who other should walk through the flames than the prince himself, Draco. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, alive and well. She wanted to rush over to him, and throw her arms around him, but she stayed where she was.

"Draco! You're here!" She exclaimed happily, her honey eyes dancing with delight at seeing him there. Instead of the warm smile that she had expected of him, he simply contorted his face into his trademark sneer.

"Hello, Hermione," he sneered, his voice dripping with ice, "Still in bed I see."

Hermione simply stared at him, her eyes wide with hurt, and her mouth hanging open with surprise. She had forgotten all about their little spat that they had back in the past. If anything, at least he still used her first name, instead of calling her some foul insult.

"Shut your mouth, Hermione, it happens to be very unattractive," Draco drawled briskly, almost in a business-like manner, "Where is your brother?"

"Uh... he should be in his um... in his room," She managed to say before watching him walk out of her room without even a glance back at her.

What was that all about? Sure, they had a fight, but it wasn't as if that fight was the end of _them_. Or was it? Hermione thought that Draco really liked her. But if he did, then why was he acting so cold and callous?

Slowly Hermione's sad thoughts took on an angrier point of view. Who was he to treat her like that? Even if he _was_ mad, he didn't have to be such an asshole. She didn't do anything to him, yet he thought that it was okay to simply walk into her room and treat her like that? No way.

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Meanwhile, Draco was strutting through the halls of Zabini Manor, anger rushing through the blood in his veins, making him be more hotheaded than usual. He really needed to talk to Blaise about what had happened to him, but now that was out of the question. Priscilla just told him that Blaise went out somewhere, and wasn't planning on coming back until late that night.

Now there was no one for him to talk to about it, no one save for Hermione. And he didn't want to talk to her about it. Whatever chance he had of talking to her, he killed earlier when he was mean to her. So, instead, he decided that it would be best if he just went home. Unfortunately, the only way to get home was through the fire that just happened to be in Hermione's room. Maybe she wouldn't even notice him until he was already gone...

That, however, was not meant to be. As soon as he walked into the room, she turned his way, her honey eyes on fire with anger. There was no way that he was going to escape unscathed.

"Er- hello Hermione," Draco said, feeling awkward as he slowly inched towards the fireplace, "Um, I'll just be leaving now."

Hermione watched, anger pouring through her veins, as he tried to escape. She knew that he felt awkward, because he never stumbled upon words as he did just now. He was trying to get away, but she wasn't going to let him leave without as fight.

"And where exactly do you think that you're going?" Hermione asked, her voice icy and cutting through the tension soaked air like a razor sharp knife. Draco stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at her.

"I'm going home of course," Draco replied just as coldly, "Why, do you think that I would actually stay in a filthy room like this?"

"Oh, you think my room is filthy now, do you?" Hermione asked, her voice getting a bit higher, bordering on the line of hysteria, "It just so happens that your mother helped my mother with the decorating."

"I wasn't referring to the décor," Draco said giving her a look suggesting that she wasn't nearly as smart as she thought she was, "I was referring to the occupant."

"Oh, that's rich!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice become more edged with hysterics at each sentence, "That, coming from the pureblood snob! It is no wonder that no one likes you! I mean who would when you act like that?"

Draco's eyes that were a light grey full of ice, suddenly turned stormy and engulfed in flames of rage.

"At least people treat me with proper respect," Draco snapped, "All your friends treat you like is a giant reference book."

By now Hermione was out of her bed, and marching angrily up to Draco, who towered over her.

"Well, _Draco_, at least my family loves me," Hermione said softly, her words laced with poison, "I've seen how your father treats you. Raising you to be a good little Death Eater, isn't he? He may be a good name to throw around, but we both no that he doesn't love you."

Immediately after the words had left her mouth, Hermione instantly regretted them. If it was possible, Draco got even paler, his face contorted with rage.

"You... you..." Draco stuttered, a look of pure rage plastered on to his face. Hermione took a step back as Draco slowly raised his hand, afraid that he would strike her.

Instead, his hand went to his own face, to hide the tears that began to fall. Hermione stood there, shocked that Draco Malfoy was even capable of crying. She didn't know what to do, so she patted him on the back in what she hoped was a comforting way. In response, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Hermione, you don't even know the half of it," Draco muttered as he calmed himself down and after he had let go of her.

"Why? What do you mean, I '_don't even know the half of it_'?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to know what he was talking about. Obviously it wasn't nothing. After all, he did start to cry.

"Never mind," Draco muttered, "Some things are just better left unsaid."

"But-" Hermione began to protest, wanting to know the truth.

"Please, Hermione, no 'buts'," Draco said, "Don't make this harder than it is."

So Hermione shut up. After all, she decided that it was his right to tell her whatever it was that he was hiding. She didn't want him to become sad again. Just a moment ago she hated him, but now her heart ached at the thought of him crying. But there was one question that she needed an answer to.

"Draco?" she asked in a soft voice, "I was wondering... if... well..."

"Jeez, spit it out Hermione," Draco laughed. He didn't say it in a mean way, but he smiled at her just in case she had gotten the wrong impression.

"I was wondering if we were still fighting," Hermione asked, "Or if we were back to being friends."

Draco smiled, "No Hermione, we're not fighting anymore. But there is one catch."

"And what would that be?" Hermione questioned, smiling to herself. She was so happy that they weren't fighting anymore, but she was curious at what his catch would be.

"I don't want to be friends," Draco smiled, "I want us to be more than friends."

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**Authors note: OMG! I finally finished that chapter! I've been working on it, bit by bit, for a while now.**

**I have been so busy lately. This past week was homecoming week at my school, and it was so much fun! Last weekend I helped decorate the hallways. Friday night was the homecoming football game, which was fun. Cold and rainy, but fun. Anyway, my best friend is now almost going out with a football player, which is great for her. Its great for me too because he has hot football player friends. ;) Anyway, last night was the homecoming dance and I danced with one of the hottest guys in our school.**

**Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed:**

**pretty-in-pink898, exquisitedreamer, Danish Pastry 28, Torri-Chiobie, tucksgurl, mistyqueen, dee023, K McNeely, Love-is-Everything, sliversun, Brittney, I-Smiles-U, queeneyZ, Hazelocean, Kristen, Miana, Depressed Hermione Malfoy, LiLbLueangeL1223, LovinLovegood1, Miss-Be-Haven, sweetlinc, pixiestars162, Hermione Charlotte Granger, greenfly, xesha, losangeleschick.**


	24. Chapter 24: You're Kidding

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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The next morning, Hermione smiled happily as she packed her belongings in her suitcase, remembering the blissful events of the night before. For it was last night that her and Draco finally became a couple.

After he had told her that he wanted to be more than 'just friends', Draco had kissed her. But this kiss was different from the other kisses that they had shared. Before, the kisses were passionate, full of lust, not love. This time, however, the very kiss seemed saturated in love. This time, Hermione felt content, as if a part of her that was previously missing was now whole again.

But Hermione was not totally naïve. She may have been innocent, but not totally naïve. She knew that she would have to be careful, if indeed she was falling in love. In fact, she thought it quite odd that she was only seventeen years old, and yet she was already falling in love.

She had certainly read enough books to know that love could be a dangerous thing. Love could blind people, making them oblivious to the most obvious of things. So, while she thought that she ought to be on guard, her heart was telling her to just be with Draco, whatever the consequences may be.

As for now, summer was drawing to a close and a new school year was about to begin. Hermione didn't know what would happen, but she knew that she was about to jump head first into a strange new world. For any world in which she, Hermione Granger Zabini, was dating Draco Malfoy surely must be a strange one.

So here she was, packing her suitcase and ready to head out for another school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was then that a house elf came in, telling Hermione that the car was waiting to take her to Kings Cross Station.

When she arrived downstairs, she found a sleek black limo awaiting her. Of course, the inside was magically enlarged, creating more room than usual. When she got in, she was surprised to see that Blaise was already there, waiting for her.

"So, little sister," Blaise said, playfully ruffling her hair, "Long time no see, eh?"

"Oh come on, Blaise, you know that it's not my fault," Hermione said, in mock indignation, "I mean, excuse me that I disappeared for a few weeks. Next time I promise that I'll leave a note."

"Ok then," Blaise laughed, his indigo eyes sparkling, but then turning somber, "But seriously Hermione, I feel as if I haven't seen you in forever."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Hermione smiled.

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For the rest of the ride, the two siblings talked. They seemed to talk a million words for everyday that Hermione was gone. But finally the time came when they had arrived in London. Hermione got out of the limo, and looked around for signs of her friends. But there were no signs of them.

Where could they be? Perhaps they were already on the train. So, Hermione got onto the train, dragging her luggage behind her as she looked in every compartment for her friends. Finally, looking through the glass door, Hermione saw a flash of vivid red hair.

She opened the compartment door to find her group of friends, huddled together and speaking in hushed tones. When they heard her enter, they turned around and seemed to do a double take. Hermione wondered why they didn't seem to recognize her until she remembered the makeover that seemed to have been so long ago.

"Hey you guys," she said rather reluctantly, "Um, it's me, Hermione."

Wow, it was so weird for her to have to remind them who she was. True, she knew that there was no way on earth that she would be voted class hottie, but she also knew that this was definitely a step up from how she looked last year. So it was no surprise that all of their mouths were dangling open in surprise as what she had just said was beginning to register in their minds.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron blurted out, "Is that really you?"

"Yeah Ron, it's me," Hermione said, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Wow Hermione," Ron said in amazement, "You, uh... you really look different."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Hermione replied with a smile as she looked to her other friends to see if they had anything to say. It was making her uncomfortable the way that they were keeping quiet.

"So Hermione, we haven't heard from you all summer," Harry said quietly, finally breaking his silence.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry about that!" Hermione exclaimed, her face turning red with shame and embarrassment as she recalled that she had indeed forgotten to write to them over the summer, "It is just that so many things have happened to me over the summer!"

"Enough things that would make you forget all about your friends?" Ginny asked. She didn't ask in a mean way, just in what sounded like a sad way.

Needless to say, Hermione immediately realized that while she was lounging around her mansion, she should have at least let her friends know the change of address.

"Ok you guys, I have a lot to tell you," Hermione said, taking a deep breath as her friends silently looked at her, indicating for her to go on, "You see, it all started earlier this summer..."

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By the time darkness began setting in, and when the candles spontaneously lit themselves throughout the train, three teenagers sat there, their mouths hanging wide open with shock. Hermione squirmed uncomfortably, waiting for someone to say something.

"Wow Hermione," Ginny gasped, totally blown away at the scandalous new information.

"Are you serious?" Ron sputtered, "I mean, all this summer, you have been living as a _Zabini_?"

"No Ron, I have not been _living as a Zabini_," Hermione smiled warmly, "I_ am_ a Zabini."

"But the Zabini's are one of the wealthiest pureblood families around!" Ron exclaimed, "Only the _Malfoy's_ are more influential!"

Hermione cringed as Ron spat out Draco's name. One year ago, she would have heartily agreed with him, but now she wanted to glare daggers at him as she listened to him go on and rant about what a ferret Malfoy was. Speaking of Draco...

Hermione's heart warmed as she thought about her boyfriend. It was strange, the word _boyfriend_ was still so foreign to her. But she hadn't seen him all day, and she really missed him. Anyway, she knew that she would have to talk to him about her friends. Because there was no way that she would be prepared to tell them about her and Draco any time soon.

Eventually the time came when the train stopped at Hogsmeade station. Hermione managed to get away from her friends without them noticing, and immediately looked for a streak of silver- blonde hair. When she saw him, she ran over and joined him in his carriage that he had managed to save for just the two of them.

"Hey you," he whispered into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her and greeted her with a n inviting kiss once the door had closed behind them.

"So, I have the best news ever," He said, teasingly not saying what exactly his news was.

"And what would that be?" Hermione said, a sexy smirk of her own on her face as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I am head boy this year," Draco whispered into her ear as he slowly kissed her neck, "With you and me as the heads, we'll be sharing a common room."

Hermione stopped, unsure of what he had just said as she wrenched herself away from Draco's lips.

"What do you mean?" She asked, confusion clouding her eyes.

"You are Head Girl, aren't you?" Draco asked.

Horror flooded through Hermione's veins as realization hit her like a school bus hits road kill. She had been so busy and distracted over the summer that she had forgotten all about Head Girl.

"Nothing ever came," Hermione murmured, "I'm not Head Girl."

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**Authors note: what do you think? I decided that the Hermione/Draco both as heads thing was a bit overdone. So I decided to switch it up a little.**

**As always, thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review! My reviewers are very dear to me, I love to hear feedback!**


	25. Chapter 25: To Tell or Not to Tell

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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That night at the feast, Hermione sat as usual with Ron, Harry, and all the rest of the Gryffindors. As they awaited the traditional speech that always precedes the feast, she sat in her seat, trying not to pout.

She couldn't believe that she didn't make Head Girl. She had spent all of her life (or at least all of her life as a student at Hogwarts) working as hard as she could in hopes of achieving this great honor. Everybody had thought with out doubt that she would naturally be Head Girl.

Apparently, Hermione's attempts to keep a smile on her face were not working, for Harry had stopped talking to Ron, and now was looking at her, concern written on his face.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked, glancing at her forlorn expression, "You don't look as if you're feeling too well."

"No, I'm fine Harry," She replied, forcing herself to plaster a bright smile on her face. She did not want to get into the matter, or at least she didn't want to get into it at the current time, "I'm just feeling as if I have a touch of a cold. But don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, looking as if he didn't quite believe her. After all, she had often been told that she was a bad liar.

Luckily, Hermione was saved from either admitting the truth or telling another bad lie, seeing as Dumbledore had just set off a firework from his wand, signaling for everyone to be quiet.

As usual, his speech went on for a long time. But unusually, this time Hermione wasn't paying attention. She was the one who habitually paid attention, but this time she simply could not, as her mind was on other things. Finally, the speech was finally over, and with it came the final words.

"There is one more announcement before we can commence with the feasting," Dumbledore said, "This year's Head Boy and Head Girl are Draco Malfoy and Lavender Brown."

Lavender Brown beat her out for the position of Head Girl? _Lavender Brown_? Has the world gone insane? Hermione knew that she had beat Lavender in every single class last year. Then again, she had beaten _everyone_ in every single class last year. So how on earth did Lavender become Head Girl?

Apparently, she wasn't the only person with that train of thought, seeing as just about everyone in the Great hall, turned and stared at her. Whispers broke out as her friends stared at her with looks of awe. Ron's mouth hung open with surprise.

"Is this the reason why you are upset, Hermione?" Harry asked, his green emerald eyes sparkling with sympathy.

Hermione nodded unhappily, knowing that it would be useless to lie. She still couldn't believe that she wasn't Head Girl. Tears filled her eyes just thinking about the injustice of it all.

After the feast, everyone set off for bed, most people happy to catch up with their friends but Hermione didn't want to go, knowing that lavender would be up there gloating. Yet luckily for her, she didn't have to go upstairs just yet as she heard her name echo through the now empty Great Hall.

She turned, her hair swinging around as she looked up to see who had called out to her. she was surprised to find none other than Professor McGonagall beckoning her to come over. And judging by the look on her face, she was _not_ happy.

"Miss Zabini," the old teacher began, the lines in her face showing her age, "I am extremely sorry and regret to inform you that you are not Head Girl this year."

_Gee, really? I had no bloody idea_, Hermione thought. But all she said was, "Yes Professor, I had heard that at the feast."

"You see Miss Zabini, all along you have been our first choice or Head Girl. But with the changes that you went through over the summer, it had appeared that you were no longer attending Hogwarts. With all the trouble that You-know-Who has been causing lately, no one noticed. Now unfortunately the position is impossible to change," Professor McGonagall said, looking truly sorry.

"Are you sure? There's nothing that you can do to replace her with me?" Hermione said, her last bit of hope slowly escaping.

"I'm sorry Miss Zabini, but once a position such a Head Girl is given away, it can not be undone. It is one of Hogwarts ancient charms. Surely you of a people should know that," the aging woman said before walking away.

Hermione blinked back tears of anger as she slowly began to make her way into the corridor. When she looked up, she saw a flash of blonde by the doorway. Sure enough, Draco was outside waiting to escort her to her dormitory.

"Hey," he greeted her, wrapping his arm around her as the couple walked up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room, "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Hermione said, giving the basic reply. She laughed when Draco gave her that all knowing look of his, "No seriously, I'm fine. After all, there are a lot worse things happening in the world, and me not becoming Head Girl hardly ranks as important."

They finally reached the portrait of the Fat lady. The corridor was empty, as most everyone was inside the common room celebrating their return. This gave them the privacy that they deserved.

"Yeah, well either way, you're welcome to come to the Heads common room whenever you want to visit," Draco said.

"Are you sure that lavender won't mind?" Hermione asked innocently, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I have no clue how she ever got to be Head Girl," Draco laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, "That girl has a make-up bag for brains."

Hermione laughed at this. Slowly yet surely she was beginning to feel better, "Yeah but she doesn't know about us yet, so she'll probably be all over you."

"Nobody knows about us yet, do they though?" Draco said before giving her one last parting kiss and taking off for the Head dormitories, leaving her standing there to think about what he had just said.

He was right of course. Nobody knew about them, not even Blaise. She dreaded telling Harry and Ron about it, for she knew how they would react. Harry would be disappointed in her, and Ron would surely have a fit. Ginny on the other hand, might be a bit easier to persuade, what with her frivolous and fanciful personality and all.

But it was Blaise who she really didn't want to tell. Hermione wasn't stupid, she noticed how tense Ron became whenever he saw Ginny with a boy. She knew that Blaise would be the same way. He wouldn't want any boy to even touch his baby sister, not even his own best friend. If they were to tell Blaise, then his and Draco's friendship would probably be ruined.

Yet naturally, if she didn't tell Blaise, then she couldn't tell anyone else. Even if she were to tell Ginny and make her promise to keep it a secret, the information would leek out. Such information that the female population of the school would deem 'juicy' simply could not be contained. Soon the information would spread around the school like a wildfire, destroying everything, including her friendships that stood in its path.

So she wouldn't tell Blaise. She wouldn't tell anyone. With this new peace, Hermione set off for bed, making her way up to the familiar dormitories. Tomorrow would be a new day, and an exciting one at that, for it would be exciting to see what would happen.

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**Authors note: I am very sorry that it has taken me so long to update. My keyboard is very messed up and it takes a _very incredibly_ long time to write. So I will try to update quickly, but indeed it may take a while.**

**Happy Thanksgiving everybody! Enjoy the mashed potatoes and gravy!**


	26. Chapter 26: Only One Case

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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That night, two friends and colleagues sat together in the Head Masters Office, discussing the night's events. The woman was quite upset, growing more distraught with each moment. The old man on the other hand, was rather calm, taking note of everything that the woman was saying.

"But Albus, _something_ must be done! For the past six years, Miss Granger has been the head of the class. She deserves something for all of her hard work," McGonagall said unhappily.

"We must remember that she is Miss Zabini now," Dumbledore said calmly, a troubled look on his face, "But you are most certainly correct. I myself can not believe that we even made such a mistake in the first place."

"We both know that once the Head Boy and Head Girl are chosen nothing can be done to replace them," McGonagall pointed out, "So whatever shall we do?"

The wise old man paused, deep in thought. Meanwhile, unbeknown to the two professors, a young man was standing outside; his ear pressed against the keyhole as he strained to hear what was being said.

"There is one thing," Dumbledore said slowly, "but it is not something that can help us."

"What is it Albus?" McGonagall questioned, "Is there something that can be done?"

Dumbledore gave a little sigh before replying, "There is one known case in which a Head Girl can be replaced."

"And what case would that be," she said, pressing him for more information.

"If a Head Girl does something which would set a bad example to the other students, it is required that she is to be replaced. Whether she behaves immorally or gives Hogwarts a bad reputation."

"But then there is nothing that we can do! That is her choice how to act, not ours," Professor McGonagall said, crestfallen.

"Indeed," replied a grave looking Dumbledore, "It is out of our hands."

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An incredulous Head Boy walked back to his dormitories, still amazed at what he had heard. Draco did not mean to eavesdrop. He had been patrolling the corridor, as was his duty, when he heard the two professors mention Hermione's name, he had to see what was being said.

It was certainly amazing that in order to get rid of Lavender, she must behave immorally. Draco knew that such a thing could easily occur, if only she had a reason to.

Now Draco wasn't a stupid boy, no matter what people thought. He had seen the way that Lavender was looking at him earlier; he saw the desire in her eyes. He also knew that if proper motivation were to be given, he could get Lavender to act _quite_ immoral.

He could flirt with her, and even seduce her if necessary. He knew that she would definitely respond. However, if only he could get her to act as dirty in public, then she would be history, and Hermione would be restored to her rightful position of Head Girl.

Yet that was the catch. Nobody knew about their relationship as of yet, so its not as if Lavender would have reason to keep it a secret. Draco did not want to hurt Hermione, but he knew that he could accomplish it if he set his mind to it.

So what would he do? That question haunted him as he slipped into bed, in hopes that a prophetic dream would bring him the answer that he needed.

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**Authors note: hey sorry I haven't updated in forever, my keyboard has been broken. What should Draco do?**


	27. Chapter 27: Reflections

**Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me. She has the best life: living in Scotland, writing books that everyone absolutely adores, and becoming a millionaire because of that. SOMEDAY THAT WILL BE ME!**

**This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.**

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"Hey Draco!" came the rather high pitched voice of Lavender Brown. Draco inwardly groaned, for he knew what he had to do. He had a mission, and by Merlin, nothing would stop him until he completed it and his goal was successful.

"Hey Lavender, how was your summer holiday?" Draco smirked, his grey eyes sparkling, "Did you do anything interesting? Or rather, any_one_ interesting?"

Lavender gave a delighted giggle as a dusky blush came to her cheeks. Draco Malfoy might not be a gentleman, but he was successful none the less. But if that's how he wanted to play, she was game.

"Draco!" She shrieked in a scandalized tone, "What exactly are you suggesting! Why, I never heard of a thing so rude in my life!"

"Why, I meant it as a compliment! I was merely curious, to see who was the lucky guy," Draco drawled, seeing her bright blue eyes flash with excitement.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know," Lavender replied, "That is, assuming that there even _was_ a lucky guy. But that's for me to know and you to find out."

Draco raised his pale eyebrows in genuine surprise. Everyone knew that Lavender Brown was the most flirtatious girl in Gryffindor, but he had to admit that she was good. Before he had fallen in love (could he call it love? He still wasn't quite sure) with Hermione, he loved seducing the girls of Slytherin, almost to the point where flirtation became a form of art.

Some of the girls, were so easy, he barely had to do anything to have them. But yet other girls were tougher to get to, like Pansy was. It was commonly misunderstood that Pansy was the biggest whore in their year, but Draco knew that wasn't true. Or it least it didn't use to be true.

Pansy Parkinson, although some have compared her looks to that of a pug, had a beauty of her own. She wasn't someone that most people would look twice on, but once someone _did_ look twice, they noticed her frail beauty. When Draco finally noticed this, he wanted her. And what a Malfoy wanted, he got.

So, for the whole summer before Fifth Year, Draco spent in her company, using all of the charms that he possessed to loosen the blockade that surrounded her. She was a virgin then, but by the time summer was over, that had changed.

Draco had finally gotten what he wanted, and it had taken a whole summer to get it. The two Slytherins had a great time for a while, that is until Draco began to be bored. The problem was, by the time that she had finally given in, Pansy truly believed that Draco loved her. His charms had that big of an impact, and by that time, she was head over heels in love with him.

However, Pansy finally noticed the girls who would occasionally be found making there way back to the Girl Dormitories after late nights in Draco's dorm. Pansy knew that what ever hold that she had on him was slipping, and she would do anything to keep his affections turned towards her. So, it was then that Pansy began wearing more and more provocative clothing. It was then that she started having "flings" with other Slytherin guys, hoping to stir some jealously in Draco's cold veins.

By the time that Draco finally set things straight, leaving a distraught and heart-broken Pansy, her reputation was ruined. At the time he thought nothing of it, but now it grated on his conscience. He knew that his past wasn't great, and now he was doing something almost bad enough. But he would do anything in his power to make Hermione Head Girl. And although he knew that it was wrong, Draco thought that it could be fun to seduce Lavender.

"Well, I had better be going to the Great hall for breakfast now," Lavender said, flipping her long blonde hair as she walked towards the door, "Maybe I'll see you later, ok cutie?"

Well... he most certainly would be seeing her later, Draco thought with a smirk as he pulled his grey wool sweater over his head. He had to think of something, some way that he could keep this indiscretion a secret.

Lavender was the type of girl who rarely cared about the feelings of others. She would certainly flaunt the fact that Draco Malfoy was flirting with her if he didn't stop her in some way. Her best friend, Parvati Patil was the only girl that she wouldn't purposely hurt. As for any other girl, their boyfriends were fair game.

And that was another thing; Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were the most notorious gossips in Hogwarts. They spent most of their free time in the girls loo, discussing the latest news of who broke up with who, and similar frivolous subjects. They could make even the smallest and boring things sound like the juiciest pieces of gossip.

So he had to think of a lie, and quite a good lie at that, in which he could tell Lavender so that she would keep her lips sealed about the two of them. The last thing that Draco wanted was Hermione finding out secondhand that he had been unfaithful. He knew that Hermione wasn't the type to forgive and forget. She might forgive him, but she would never, ever forget.

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**Authors note: I know that some of you must be horrified that I decided to allow Draco to do such a thing. But someone once told me "It's Draco Malfoy. Of course he would do it". And they are right. Sure, it may be a wonderful love story if he were forever faithful and true to Hermione. And in his heart, he is. But indeed, this is Draco Malfoy. And any true fan of Draco would know that he would not hesitate to do such a thing.**


	28. Chapter 28: Hell hath no Fury

He knew what people thought of him

Lavender Brown was happy. Oh yes indeed, she was happy. For it had seemed as if everything in her life had finally begun to fall into place. As a result, she could not contain her joy as her classmates wondered why that mischievous smile was suddenly ever-present on her highly-glossed lips.

First of all, she was Head Girl. How it came about that she received such an honor, she had no idea. From practically their first day at Hogwarts, everyone assumed that it would be Hermione Granger who would have the honor. So imagine Lavender's surprise when the letter arrived. Hermione of course, was crushed. Lavender felt bad, she truly did. But really, her loss was Lavenders gain. And that was a good thing, was it not? A ver good thing.

For among the perks of being Head Girl came the 'responsibility' of sharing a common room with the Head Boy. And this year the Head Boy was Draco Malfoy. Oh yes, all the other Gryffindors seemed to despise him. But the fact that he was a total hottie did not escape Lavenders notice. Indeed, she had been secretly pining after him for years. Now, they shared a room and she could not be more ecstatic.

They had been back at Hogwatrts for a couple of weeks, when Parvati Patil finally decided that she simply must know what Lavender was so happy about.

"So Lavender, you seem awfully happy these days," Parvati said, causing all the other girls in their Gryffindor gaggle to giggle.

"Well, what can I say, I merely enjoy the perks of being Head Girl," Lavender replied with a smirk, insinuating that there was more to tell and forgetting that a certain Hermione Granger, or rather, Zabini, stood not but a few feet away.

'Stupid cow,' Hermione thought viciously. It wasn't as if Lavender Brown ever had done anything to merit being rewarded with Head Girl. Pansy bloody Parkinson would even have done a better job! While sulking about her misfortune, Hermione then heard something which caught her ear immediately.

"Well girls, you all know of course that Draco Malfoy is Head Boy this year," Lavender said as many of the girls gave appreciative sighs. She wasn't the only one attracted to Malfoy. Sure, he was an ass, but none of them cared.

"What exactly are you getting at, Lavender?" Parvati asked, jealousy edging in on her voice. She had been crushing on the Slytherin boy for years, and Lavender knew it.

"Oh, let's just say that he and I have a sort of 'thing' going on," Lavender replied, her pleasure palpable in the air. She did not notice Hermione's eyes, however.

One look at Hermione and no one would ever be able to tell that the matter was of any interest at all to her. That is, unless one were to look closely at her honey eyes. First they widened with hurt, tears beginning to form. But then they flashed into an anger which was never before seen in the studious girl.

"I mean, he just can't keep his hands off me," Lavender exclaimed, enjoying her limelight as the other girls looked at her, hungry for more details, "Girls, let me just tell you that the boy is a good kisser!"

"Oh, is that all you did? Just kiss?" Parvati asked, her voice full of insinuation.

In reply, Lavender smirked, making it obvious to everyone that she had, in act, done much more, "I don't want to bore you all with the details."

"Really?" Hermione asked, her eyes taken on a manic glow and her voice a strange combination of hysterics and pure loathing, "I mean really, Lavender? You and… _Draco_?"

"Don't look so angry, Hermione. Really, it does not suit you," Lavender said, "I know he is a Slytherin, but you are a smart girl. Don't you think that we should be stressing interhouse unity?

"Oh, I think just the opposite. There is going to be one big feud between the houses pretty soon," Hermione muttered as she turned on her heel and walked away from the giggling group.

Who did Lavender Brown think she was? A big slut, that what she was!! Hermione was blind with anger, never having felt a fury so strong. Well, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Not usually one for intrigue and gossip, she would make sure that by the end of the day, everyone in Hogwarts would no what a whore lavender Brown was.

And Draco? She could kill him. Indeed, she felt nothing short of murderous. How dare he? Seriously, how_ dare_ he? Angry tears burned Hermione's eyes as she made her way back to her dormitory.

Yet strangely, she realized that she was still angry, still murderous. But she was not angry at him. For years, she had known that he was like this. It was common knowledge. No, she was angry at herself. Angry for having fooled herself into thinking that he could change, that she could change him.

He had played her for a fool, yet it was her own fault. How many times had she watched from the sidelines as he had done the same thing to girl after girl? How many times had she talked to those girls, and later laughed at their stupidity, claiming that she would never be that dumb.

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**Hello all. Yeah, so I haven't updated in like two years. But things change. The world of Harry Potter has changed. It is a different world then the one I imagined when I began this story three years ago. Back then, this story could be completely plausible. Now, we know what happened 7th year.**


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